


Belief Space

by magicasen



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, New Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Vol. 5 (2013), Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 59,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Time Gem appears not when it is wanted, but when it is needed. Steve learns this the hard way. </p><p>(Or: an Infinity #6 AU where Thane refuses his birthright and the Avengers are doomed - until the Time Gem shows up within Captain America's grasp.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a canon divergence of Hickman's run on Avengers (vol 5), New Avengers (vol 3), and the Infinity event. It uses no canon published past New Avengers #12.
> 
> These info posts could serve in a pinch if you need to know what's going down in 616 right now, although they admittedly only cover up to New Avengers #3: [1](http://subtextsays.tumblr.com/post/69303520651), [2](http://subtextsays.tumblr.com/post/69303527000), [3](http://subtextsays.tumblr.com/post/69303533489).
> 
> There are spoilery warnings in the end notes, but there's nothing big enough to warrant using the archive warnings.
> 
> Thank you to [iloome](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iloome/pseuds/iloome) for the beta!

Thor fell to his knees.

Steve felt their already tenuous hold on victory slip. Swatted away like a fly, he lay curled on his side, momentarily stunned and unable to locate the rest of his team. His line of sight consisted of Thanos and of Thor kneeling before him. The same Thor who had averted the enslavement of a universe not even a month ago, when he had ripped through a Builder's chest and turned the tides in an unwinnable war, was defenseless now, helm torn away and Mjolnir wrenched out of his grasp.

Thanos raised his fists, which were encased in a blinding light, and threw his head back with a great roar. The earth shuddered beneath him. Mingled with the fearsome sight was an unmistakable finality. The Avengers had traversed vast star systems to fight through countless devastating battles for naught. The universe had won, but Earth lost.

The treacherous thought compelled Steve to move, cursing himself. It couldn't be over, not after everything they'd done, everything they'd gone through and fought for. He wouldn't have lasted a week on this team if he ever believed there existed an end with defeat. Gravel dug into the skin exposed by the tears in his uniform as he pushed himself to hands and knees, forcing himself to focus on the feel of dirt beneath his fingers. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Peak human meant peak instincts, and willpower alone wouldn't be enough to fully shake off the natural, paralyzing terror that came with facing down the harbinger of Death. Not now, when just getting to his feet felt like a distant improbability.

Shield. He needed his shield first, and after that, to rouse his team to aid Thor. Tony had said he and the others would come after they neutralized the threat in Wakanda. It was his word that Steve placed his trust, and their future, in. Only an inkling of a chance existed here with a small strike team, so what they would do was stall long enough for their knights in black and gold armor would come charging in. To set the stage for their upset, what they needed was...Time – they needed _time_ , Steve repeated to himself like a mantra as he scoured the field.

His shield was propped against an outcropping of rock a dozen feet away, its surface turned away from him. Steve ignored his body's protests as he half-staggered, half-crawled toward it. With the shield, he could enter the fray again. With his team, they would win back Earth. Steve was faintly aware of a sickening crunch behind him, then the sound of something crashing to the ground.

When he reached the shield, gripping its edge and tugging, there was a clang as something tumbled out of it onto the dirt below. It glowed, was Steve's first thought. Glowed orange, and before the meaning of that dawned on him, Steve was scrabbling furiously for it. His hand brushed over the smooth surface of the stone, and a terrible, immense force, almost beyond comprehension, surged through him, robbing him of breath. Whatever he had felt against the Builders, against even Death itself, was dwarfed by the gravity of what lay inches before him.

Steve closed the Time Gem within his grasp.

* * *

The first impossible thought that crossed his mind was how familiar the gem felt, fitted in his palm. People told him Captain America meant something larger than life, a fact he was keenly mindful of, but the sheer scope of an Infinity Gem was beyond idolatry. He would have remembered holding one before. And he certainly would not have felt hollow, like this overwhelming power was only a mere echo of what could have been. Nevertheless, the weight of the stone calmed him. Time slowed, the raging battle in the ruins of a barren city left forgotten.

The gem made Steve promises. He could prevent the Builders from reaching this universe. Stop the war with the X-Men. Defeat the Serpent before it unleashed planet-wide panic. Expose the Skrull invasion before it began. He could go back and save hundreds at Stamford before everything was destroyed from the inside-out. The gem tempted him with the fates of billions, and the faces of Ian and Sharon rose to the surface of its whispered images. His stomach twisted.

 _No. All I want is the future_.

A pale woman with snow-white hair; no color in her face save for a trace of orange in her eyes and black in her lips, which curved upwards. Sam and Izzy curled on a couch in the tower, him asleep on her shoulder, and when she noticed Steve she rolled her eyes before raising a finger to her lips. Blinking blood out of his eyes, feet shuffling across a bare desert, not allowing himself to look down at the limp body cradled in his arms that weighed down an entire world.

Steve tore himself from the visions, seeing nothing but white. He raised the gem, and its light pierced through the blindness. It shone, Steve blinked, and if time had slowed before, then now it came to a halt. The wind howled around Steve's ears as he rose to his feet.

Nearby, Bruce sat, knees pulled to his chest, head buried in his hands. Thor stood by him, staring in the distance with an intensity in his expression Steve rarely saw outside of the most fateful of battles. Steve looked around then up, and saw Hyperion and Carol had recovered as well, both flying around unencumbered. Steve took the image in as his mind and vision cleared, before lowering his gaze to what they circled above.

Thanos was frozen in place, arms raised and face contorted, caught in the middle of a shout. One of his Cull Obsidian – Steve ran through the files in his head – Proxima Midnight held her scepter out, her eyes wide with shock.

“Steve,” Thor had ended up beside him, and his voice was grave and pitched in a low whisper, “they are not dead, but stopped in time. Do you know what caused this?” Judging by his considering gaze, Steve's involvement in the matter would not come as a surprise.

The Time Gem was still gripped in his hand. Steve held his fist out and paused for a second before opening his palm. If Thor was shocked, he let no sign of it show past a slight tightening around his eyes.

“It appeared out of nowhere, and we needed it to win.” Steve made a point of glancing over to the middle of the field to Thanos and Midnight. “Looks like it answered my wish.”

Thor had followed his gaze to the two. “The gems should not be used lightly,” he said carefully. “But I understand your judgment. Defeat was not a possibility we could entertain.” Despite those words, when he turned back toward Steve, his expression had grown troubled. “However, I was under the impression this is an impossibility, after Tony willed the gems out of existence.”

“He...did do that.”

A dark look crossed Thor's face. “Once, I would have taken any of his words to heart with surety, but now – with this.” His expression grew sharp. “I have faith in his abilities, and the gauntlet grants all-encompassing power. Rather than him failing in his promise and duty, I fear there is a chance our friend is hiding secrets from us.” _Again_ , he left unsaid. Steve saw it anyway, in the steel of his eyes and the set of his jaw.

“So you're saying he didn't actually destroy them. He just told us he did.” Steve frowned, but matched Thor's gaze evenly as he pocketed the gem with less than steady fingers.

Thor's suspicions weren't entirely unfounded, but Tony was the one Steve had created this new iteration of Avengers with. The team that had just succeeded in saving the universe, and Earth by proxy, due in part to Tony's exhaustive planning granting them the infrastructure they needed to deal with this level of threat. But the last time they had been partners in this sense, leading a team together, they had still – Steve shook his head emphatically. Tony was Tony, and that was all Steve needed to clear his name.

“I'm no expert on the Infinity Gems, but I gather the Time Gem is the kind to show up in unexpected situations.” Unexpected, but necessary; no matter how many angles Steve approached the scenario from, on their own, victory had been a deus ex machina away. Ironically, an Infinity Gem appearing out of nowhere was possibly the most fitting example of that. “Futurist or not, no one could have predicted this happening. We can't do anything right now but take this gift horse at face value. I'll talk to Tony. I'll ask him what he knows, what could have gone wrong back then.”

Thor took a moment before nodding but didn't seem assuaged. He stared at his hand, instead, clenching and unclenching it. “Friend, I apologize, both for casting doubt on our friend, and for making you suspect him. I was overcome with dark thoughts, but it was not related to Tony. I will confess to you what it is that truly ails me.” Thor's shoulders slumped. “I had been defeated. I regret that. But, more than the pain of loss, is that even though I stand next to you now, I cannot comprehend how or why I am able to do so.”

In his mind, Steve heard again the sickening crunch, and the realization of what must have happened made him suppress an involuntary flinch. Altering the past was dangerous, of course; he'd had the sentiment repeated to him a countless amount of times, and even his instinct recoiled at the idea. But, with Thor standing next to him alive and well, Steve found he couldn't regret his unconscious decision.

“Steve. Thor. Bruce.” Carol's voice led Steve back to the situation at hand. She grunted as she landed next to them and ran a hand through her hair, making it stick on end. She scowled. “Hyperion just found – you're going to want to see this.”

Bruce stirred and got to his feet unsteadily. Carol led them across the empty field and behind a jutting of rock. There, a corpse lay sprawled on the ground. The man's skin was purple and knobbly, and his lifeless eyes had once been a dull yellow. In his chest, where his heart would be, was a gaping hole.

Steve knelt to get a closer look. “So Thanos got what he wanted in the end.” He didn't bother to suppress the resentment in his tone. Apparently, even being frozen in time couldn't prevent the Mad Titan from achieving his goals.

“Damn it!” Carol kicked at a clod of dirt.

“I would make an objection.” Hyperion hovered next to them, arms crossed over his chest. “The way he was killed – even if this is the outcome he desired, this was not Thanos's doing.”

“Hyperion, you said there were five life readings earlier.” Bruce averted his eyes from the corpse. “Two stopped, one vaporized, and one – ” he motioned with a jerk of his head at the body, “but the last one...”

“Had to be in a position to stab the son in the back.” Steve, having finished his examination of the body, swiped a hand over its face to close its eyes. The wound told the entire story, of the murder at least; the son had been impaled from the back by someone who had known exactly where to strike to kill with a single, swift blow. He probably hadn't even realized what had happened before his heart had been pierced through.

“And the bastard high-tailed it off afterward,” Carol added grimly. “It doesn't look like the only factions in play here were Earth versus Thanos.”

“Hail!” Steve turned to Thor, who had raised Mjolnir and the glint of sunlight off the uru metal made Steve blink the glare away. But he quickly saw it wasn't to the gathered group Thor had addressed his call.

Steve squinted up into the sun. Something rapidly approached them, and the closer it came, the more distinctly human-shaped its outline became. A smile tugged at the corner of Steve's lips. They had won back the universe and their home, but it hadn't truly felt like their victory up until now.

Iron Man landed with a small hop to steady himself. When he straightened, he first looked between the gathered Avengers, then to the son's corpse, and finally to the petrified statues. “What, you didn't save anything for me?” The modulated filter couldn't hide the teasing lilt of his voice, but neither did it obscure the bafflement.

“Figured we could afford to take on some extra chores,” Steve replied.

“Way to make a guy feel inadequate.” Tony still sounded a bit dazed. “Supposed to keep an eye out for Earth, make sure no intergalactic megalomaniacs with the bite to back up their bark do something like, say, take over the planet while the real heroes go off to war.” He gestured around them. “And then they finish my job for me anyway.”

Carol patted Tony on the arm. “Don't take it personally.”

“I thought you were supposed to be bringing an army with you,” said Bruce with a pointed raise of an eyebrow.

Tony turned and looked back over his shoulder, not replying for a long moment. “The others were...held up. There are a lot of places that people need to be at right now. I was the one who could make it here first. But more importantly,” he cast his gaze back over them, “what happened? Even with all the heavy hitters in this crowd, I don't think your power sets can do,” he gestured toward Thanos and Midnight, “anything bordering on this.”

Steve had said he would talk to Tony, but he realized he hadn't thought over the specifics of actually telling him. How would Tony react when he saw the gem? Could Thor's doubts be proven? Steve trusted Tony with his life, but their own lives weren't the most important part of this business. It didn't help that at the moment, Tony could have donned the maniacal expression of a supervillain and they would be none the wiser. (Not that Steve thought that was possible to begin with. Besides, they had been doing this for so long that most of them had learned only to show the emotions they wanted to.)

“It was the son,” Thor interrupted, calling everyone's attention to him. “The others were incapacitated at the time, but I watched it happen with my own eyes. The son used his powers to do what he did to Thanos, then was killed in turn. By who, I do not know; they fled after committing the crime.”

“It's a pity that someone who used such great power for good met their end through such cowardly means,” Hyperion noted with a hint of remorse.

Meanwhile, Bruce's face twisted in disgust. “So when he'd lived out his usefulness, they threw him out like trash?”

Thor didn't meet Steve's eyes, so he couldn't express his unspoken gratitude to the man for easing the imminent conversation he needed to have.

Tony was...sometimes, Steve never knew how Tony would make him react. Even in front of people Steve was supposed to lead, Tony could make him forget everything else and lose his composure. Steve could scream at him, unable to register anything past the blood boiling in his blood and the red searing his vision. Or he could embrace him, wanting to clasp the other man's body against his, reluctant to ever let go. There was never a proper time to not be absolutely certain he could remain in control, but now was especially inadvisable.

“Sorry to say, but this is no time for feeling bad.” Tony's clipped voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts. “I wish I didn't have to say that to everyone here of all people, when there should have been a welcoming parade waiting with bated breath on your return. But as you can see, we haven't exactly been lying back and sipping drinks all this while.” He nodded at Thanos and Midnight. “First things, first – I actually have the resources and manpower to take care of what happens to these two. If I couldn't finish up the job, might as handle clean-up.”

Tony's dry, detached words managed to shake all of them out of their respective brooding.

“As long as they don't end up as the centerpiece in the Tower, they're all yours,” Carol said.

“Everyone agreed?” Tony didn't wait for a response before he continued, “Then I have to make a few calls first.” He seemed distracted. “If you'll let me – ” He hurried off to the side, but Steve was right on his heels.

“I know you ended up not needing anyone,” Tony told him shortly when they were a distance away from the others, “but...I'm sorry I couldn't make it here sooner. No offense, but you all look pretty banged up.” He shrugged a little. “Managed to stopped the threat in Wakanda, though.”

“Of course you did,” Steve said, watching him, and he could feel of the weight of the gem in his pocket. “But first, Tony, you need to know,” he took a breath to prepare himself, “Thor didn't exactly tell the truth back there.”

Tony stared at him, and with the blank faceplate it threw Steve off in a way it shouldn't have; he suddenly found himself missing Tony's older armor designs, the ones with the eyeholes. “ _Thor_?” Tony said with warranted incredulity. “Huh. How do you reckon that?”

“Because I know what really stopped Thanos.” As he said it, Steve reached into his pocket, and wondered if he should have told Tony to raise the faceplate so he could see his expression. It shouldn't matter how Tony reacted, Steve told himself, but part of him knew that answers would be written on Tony's face that could never be wrung from him otherwise. Steve opened his fist and, as if on cue, the gem pulsed and floated up above his palm.

Tony was very quiet. Steve's skin prickled. Turned out that the protracted silence unsettled him more than any other response would have. “Why are you showing this to me?” Tony finally asked, voice carefully blank even through the metallic voice modifiers.

“You were the last one who had it,” Steve said. “Remember? You willed the Infinity Gauntlet away.”

“...Supposedly. Yet here's the Time Gem, come back to play.” Tony looked down and sighed. Tony's almost shell-shocked reaction eased the clench of Steve's chest; the gem's appearance had clearly been unexpected for him as well. “Why did you keep the others out of the loop?”

“I can't give them all the information if I don't know it myself.” With an upward jerk of his hand, Steve caught the floating gem. “I'm glad the gem showed up when it did, but it brings up too many questions I need answered.”

Tony fell silent again. When he spoke, it was with a tone of defeat. “I don't know what to tell you, Steve. Maybe I just wasn't good enough to do anything with the Gauntlet.”

“I don't think so,” Steve said, and Tony's head snapped up. “When you have it, the power of the universe is at your fingertips. You can do anything. Be anyone. It's something you could lose yourself in. Even if you don't think you can do it now, you could have done it back then.”

“...And how do you know that?” Tony asked, and Steve paused. How did he know? He had never worn the gauntlet before, yet there was such conviction behind his words.

“I don't know,” he finally admitted with some difficulty. “It makes sense to me.” The words rang false to his own ears.

“Regardless of what happened, and how, that gem saved your lives.” Tony nodded. “If that's the price I pay for screwing up, I'm more than happy to accept it.” He paused with some hesitation, then reached out with his hand. “It's my responsibility, though, for not properly dealing with the gem earlier. You don't need to worry about this either. I'll take care of it.”

Steve glanced between Tony's armored gauntlet and the gem in his own hand, then closed his fist. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“What's that?” Steve could feel Tony intently watching him. “You don't trust me?”

“It's not that I don't trust you. You know, you don't have to take everything on. Just securing Thanos and Midnight would keep your hands tied for now.”

“Oh.” Steve saw Tony carefully considering his words. “You don't think I can handle this, do you?” The disdain in his voice caught Steve off-guard. When Tony truly felt that way he could turn on the lights, smiles _and_ eyes at a blinding thousand watts – this was Tony Stark, after all. This thinly-veiled contempt was too open, too obvious, and Tony continued, “after everything I've done, is that really – ”

“That's not what I said,” Steve interrupted, and because it seemed like Tony wasn't going to stop, “and speaking of, weren't you the one talking about how you screwed up?” He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. They were verbatim to Tony's, but his mouth tasted dry and bitter; Tony was one of the most capable people Steve knew, and he would put so many more things in his hands more important than an Infinity Gem.

“What about Reed, then?” Tony asked abruptly, changing tactics. “He's more familiar with the universe than almost anyone we know. He can't be a bad person to go to about this. Or, if you want to look into its magical properties, you could contact Stephen Strange.”

“We'll see,” said Steve. “The gem came to me, so I'll take responsibility for ensuring it's kept safe.”

“Yeah,” Tony tried saying lightly, but Steve could hear how he forced the nonchalance, “no good will come out of not storing that thing properly. It's practically a weapon of mass destruction, and someone has to tell you, Steve, but that's not your area of expertise. If not me, I really recommend you go to Reed or Stephen. It's in everyone's best interests. Unless...you're not going power-hungry on me, are you?” Tony laughed, strained.

“You've figured me out,” Steve made himself joke along, “with this, I can hunt down all the other gems and take over the universe.”

“The other – ” Tony paused, and the air grew tense between them. “I mean, of course you would say that when the evidence of where that path leads is standing a mere twenty feet away.” He gestured his gauntlet at Thanos like he was about to fire off a repulsor blast.

“You don't think I'm more capable than Thanos?” Steve asked with mock hurt, before growing serious. “You don't need to handle everything, Tony. Let me take care of this instead. If something comes up, I'll go to you.” He attempted a teasing smile. “Don't tell me you're not trusting your leader to make the right calls.”

“Of course I trust you,” Tony said the words slowly, like he needed to spell it out, and Steve knew he had been pushed too far if he had fallen back on patronizing. “But speaking of calls, you did interrupt me in the middle of making some, so if you'll let me get back to that.” Tony turned away from him and raised two fingers to the side of the helmet, effectively shutting him out.

Steve pocketed the gem and took a step back, still facing Tony's back. He couldn't hear anything of the calls being made.

More than a dismissal, Tony had just shown him the cold shoulder. Steve couldn't even remember the last time Tony had cut him off like that; he was especially open nowadays, after they spent so much time together on the restructuring of the team.

They had won. Earth was theirs again, but as he watched Tony and with the gem weighing on him, Steve wondered if that didn't mean the same thing as Earth being his again.

* * *

Steve turned the stone in his palm over. With its pale orange hue, it could have been passed off for some cheap souvenir, if it wasn't also the weightiest object he'd ever held. Tony was right. The first thing Steve had decided was that no one should have this in their possession, but he had no idea where to even begin.

Tony had Avengers Tower, not to mention billions to spend on security. Reed had the Baxter Building and the dozens of dimensions it led to. Stephen had the Sanctum Sanctorum and every realm accessible from there. Steve didn't even have his apartment anymore.

“Mr. Richards will see you now, Captain.” In front of him, the elevator doors opened with a low hum.

“Thank you, HERBIE,” Steve said, speaking to the ceiling. He wouldn't have bothered in the Tower, but as the Fantastic Four were in the habit of naming their building AIs, it would only be polite. When he stepped inside, a button lit up on the panel without prompting – presumably the one leading to Reed's lab. The elevator started to rise.

Steve had no reliable method of contacting Stephen, which came as no surprise, as no one else did, either. (Wong didn't count.) So Steve had chosen to speak to Reed about what to do with the gem instead. Someone with Reed's knowledge of the universe would certainly give sound advice from an objective view point, even if Steve might not be able to follow most of it. Usually, Sue was able to help with that bit, but Steve was reluctant about telling too many people about the gem's reappearance. The Builders, no matter how alien they had been, were sentient beings, with thoughts, feelings, and goals. The gem had as much, or perhaps even more, potential to destroy than the Builders had, yet it wasn't even the size of Steve's thumb. How did you even begin to formulate a strategy against that?

He could have spoken to Tony about it. It was even what he said he would do. At the very least, he could have told Tony where he was going and why. Asking Reed or Stephen for their input had been Tony's idea, after all.

If Steve could be completely honest with himself, part of it came from a place of pettiness. It was a bit insulting that Tony's first reaction to Steve having the gem was to imply Steve's lack of competency, try to take it from him, and when told no, use the silent treatment like he was a kindergartener. It wasn't like Tony would have done things much differently than Steve did, by choosing to consult Reed. Tony was master of whatever he built, or whatever he _could_ build, but he had the sense to know that poking the Time Gem to understand its properties would be mind-numbingly idiotic, not to mention nothing short of calamitous.

The idea made Steve's thoughts darken, but maybe there _was_ something Tony wasn't telling him. It might not have even occurred to him if Thor hadn't mentioned it. He and Tony had worked so well, fit together so easily ever since Tony had woken Steve up that night and shared his plans for team expansion with him. There were few Steve would rather have by his side for...anything, not just the Avengers.

But the moment Steve showed the gem to Tony, he had tried to get it away from Steve. His blunt insistence then, even taking jabs at Steve's lack of expertise, was evident of that; Tony normally only told him things like that in jest. Steve needed to find out why Tony needed it away from him, and why Tony had dodged the question of how the Time Gem had even _been_ there to begin with.

When Tony had wielded the Gauntlet, the universe had remained intact. Unchanged. Which meant his friend hadn't become power-hungry, and for an instant, Steve wished that the Soul Gem had appeared instead, just so that he could know what was going on in Tony's mind. It wasn't a new sentiment. Tony's unwillingness stung a little, and Steve wasn't thin-skinned. But it stood to reason; they were in this together, and if Tony truly needed his help, he would stand with him.

The elevator doors slid open with a pleasant ding. Since this was Reed's lab, the sound was probably for his benefit, to announce visitors, though it didn't seem to make a difference in this case. Steve blinked to adjust to the abrupt darkness, a startling contrast with the well-lit foyer and the bright mid-day sun outside. Reed was hunched over a desk and didn't show any sign of noticing Steve's arrival, the only light source in the room a glaring lamp set beside him. There were pages upon pages of what appeared to be schematics neatly stacked and rolled on the table's surface. Maybe it was because he had just been thinking about him, but Steve's first thought was that the sight was at odds with Tony's workstation, where bits and pieces of half-finished projects and scribbles of planned ones were always scattered all over the top and would even spill over the sides.

Even when Steve had made his way over to stand next to him, Reed didn't greet him. Steve couldn't tell if it was because he really didn't notice him or simply didn't believe it necessary. Steve cleared his throat, and Reed looked up and raised both eyebrows. So it was the former, and Steve was once again reminded of the other compulsive super-genius in his life.

“Steve,” Reed said, “I have to say you took me off guard with this visit. I assumed you would be occupied with debriefings, clean-up, paperwork, et cetera. But I'm glad to have you,” he added as an afterthought.

“We all have our hands full,” Steve said, nodding at the elaborate plans on the table. “What are you working on?” he asked, opting for small talk first. Even if they didn't maintain the same organizational tendencies, maybe Reed enjoyed sharing about his projects as much as Tony did. He shouldn't spring the Time Gem on Reed so quickly, though Steve doubted Reed was the type to particularly care. No, that wasn't fair; anyone who knew what an Infinity Gem was would abandon all else when presented with one. There was only one person dodging the subject here, and Steve shunted the thought aside.

“Oh, this – ” Reed hesitated. “Just a pet project of mine.” He avoided Steve's eyes as he rolled up the pages and pushed them to the corner, before evidently changing his mind and stretching his arms to deposit them on another desk altogether.

Steve suppressed a frown at Reed's reticence and scanned the desk for anything else to mention. “Your workstation's well-organized,” he finally mentioned lamely. “Tony's desk at the tower is a mess,” he added. “He's always tinkering with something or another.”

Reed brought his hand up to his chin with a thoughtful hum. “It's logical. Tony has the mind of an engineer, so he prefers application. If he runs into any shortcomings in his projects, he would choose to overcome it through trial-and-error, tweaking and re-tweaking. On the other hand, I prefer to perfect the theory behind my projects before executing them. Both valid approaches.” He leaned back in his chair, pressing his hands together. “But enough with stalling. Truth be told Steve, I'm very curious why you came here, especially on your own. If it's Avengers business, usually Tony is the one who contacts me.”

“This doesn't have anything to do with Tony.” Steve paused. It annoyed him how he couldn't say that for certain. “Did anyone tell you how we stopped Thanos?”

Reed straightened in his chair. “Yes, Tony did. His son, Thane, stopped him. A sort of living death.” He frowned. “I understand why Thanos was so intent on eliminating him; that much power would naturally be seen as a threat.” Then he shook his head with a small sigh. “But the son was killed by a third party, who fled afterward.”

So Tony hadn't told Reed everything, even though he had been the one who suggested Steve go to him in the first place. If Steve were less tenacious, he would have long given up understanding Tony as a futile endeavor. “You have half of it.” Steve reached into his pocket and closed his fingers around the gem deposited there.

“I have an eidetic memory,” Reed said a bit shortly.

Steve's lips quirked. “I don't doubt that. Sorry to tell you this, but information has been withheld from you.”

In a single, smooth motion, Steve pulled out the gem and opened his palm. The stone floated up, its glow entrancing, and he took too long to tear his gaze from it to observe Reed's reaction.

Steve could count on his fingers the number of times he had seen Reed Richards rendered speechless. With this, another finger was added. Reed's eyes bulged out of his face and his mouth hung agape; Steve had the fleeting thought he might have even stopped breathing. It could have been comical, if Steve hadn't been holding a stone with the potential to twist the universe inside-out with naught required but the user's will.

When Reed did eventually move, it was to knead at the side of his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He exhaled slowly. “Where did you find an Infinity Gem, Steve? Or, judging from its light, would _when_ be the more appropriate question?”

“It appeared in front of me when we were fighting Thanos.”

“And that's how he came to be frozen,” Reed finished. Steve could see sweat beading on his forehead. “As you can imagine, the nature of the Time Gem means it appears at the most unexpected times. Though I suppose you can speak of it from experience at this point.” He stared at the gem like he was drinking in the sight. Steve had seen Reed show wonder and appreciation before, but nothing like this. In that expression lurked something like need, or desperation.

“Unexpected, but not unwanted,” Steve said. “It saved us. If we had been unable to stop Thanos there, it would have made our entire fight pointless.”

“There were many times the gem could have of use, but you're right.” Reed sounded like he was making a reluctant admission. “I'm glad it came to you, Steve. For your sake and for Earth's.”

Steve closed his fingers over the gem. “But now that it's over, I don't know what's next. I'm not one for superstition, but I can't shake the feeling that there's more to the gem appearing when it did.”

“You're saying that it has a greater purpose to serve than stopping Thanos.” Reed nodded slowly. “After your time in space, you would understand that, though we call it home and as such it is very dear to us, the Earth is infinitesimally tiny in the scope of a universe. Why would the gem appear to save this planet, and not another? I am one of the most qualified to say that, though it has its own brand of order, the universe works in strange ways. But that answer doesn't satisfy me, either. To put it simply, I concur with your conclusion.”

“That's why I'm here,” Steve said. “I knew when I used it to stop Thanos, that this power wasn't meant to be wielded by me. By anyone. You, or maybe Stephen Strange, are more knowledgeable than I am, more equipped to understand what to do with the gem to ensure that.”

“So you want to pass off the responsibility of the gem to me,” Reed finished.

“What?” Steve recoiled. “No.”

Reed jerked with shock, and that was another expression he rarely saw on the other's face.

“I don't intend to make you deal with this,” Steve said. “I just want your advice on how to store it.”

“Store it?” Reed breathed out with a small shudder. “I can help you with that as well, Steve. As you remember, I was a part of the group who protected the gems when they still existed.” He eyed Steve's fist. “A disproven statement, now. Anyway, any pocket dimensions I can reach are open to you.”

“I was thinking,” Steve phrased it carefully, “that I would prefer to hold onto it myself.”

Reed's eyebrows knitted together. “Might I ask why?”

Reed wasn't the type of person who would accept 'intuition' as an answer. But Steve couldn't think of another way to explain it, nor was he willing to hedge his response to make it more palatable. The reason sounded flimsy even to himself: that ever since he first held the gem, the power to change the universe resting in his palm of his hand, he knew he shouldn't be parted from it. Maybe this is how power-hungry villains felt, but the off-hand thought didn't lessen Steve's conviction. Letting someone else come into possession of the gem wasn't an option. Perhaps the gem had granted him clairvoyance when it saved his life.

“It's much more logical for me to keep it, Steve.” Reed interlaced his fingers together. “I'm more familiar with the cosmic scope the gem belongs to. The Fantastic Four have an unfortunately regular track record with Galactus. I have built a bridge that observes the entire multiverse. There exists a portal to the Negative Zone in this very building.”

Steve still thought the FF were out of their minds with that last one. “You have a good point, Reed. But I'm not going to stand down on this.”

Reed didn't meet his eyes. “Let me call Stephen, then, to join us,” he said. “There are properties of the Infinity Gems that cannot be fully explained through scientific theory alone.”

“Stephen? Stephen Strange?” Steve blurted. “You can do that? Contact him right away?”

“...We have our methods. The good Doctor was also a part of our group, before we...disbanded.” With those words, Reed angled his left palm toward himself and brushed his thumb over it. A red light lit up, and the glow reflected off Reed's eyes, angling the shadows under his eyes. Reed couldn't be getting much sleep, Steve noted, with bags like those, but that was how they all were, lately.

 _Why are your immediate communication channels still established if the group dissolved almost a year ago_ , Steve thought, but held his tongue.

Minutes passed in silence, and not the companionable sort. The air hung still and cloying, and it clung to his body, lethargy sinking into his limbs. On the other hand, always cool, collected Reed was unnerved – setting his elbow on and off the desk, running a hand through his hair, glancing around furtively.

“He knows he has to come as soon as humanly possible when we contact each other,” Reed broke the silence with a mutter, “or faster.” His fingers tapped a rhythm out against the edge of the table.

There were dozens of questions clamoring at at the back of Steve's mind, and he finally settled on one. “Reed,” Steve said, “why didn't you ask me how it's possible the gems came back into existence after Tony wished them away?”

Reed didn't reply, eyes fixed at a spot just past Steve's shoulder. When his gaze snapped back to Steve's, there was a deep weariness etched in it. “Because that part didn't surprise me,” he said. “I'm sorry, Steve.”

His body's alarms spiked, not from Reed's words, but what they signaled: the presence that flashed into existence behind him. When Steve whirled around, his vision was shot in a haze of blood red. His hearing ebbed in and out, his limbs turned to stone, and his eyelids drooped uncontrollably. He forced himself to blink, and saw the blurred outline of a tall being, its proportions too wrong to be a person.

Steve's knees buckled as energy channeled (out of?) him, and he dropped to his knees, his world growing dark at the edges –

“He knows he has to come as soon as humanly possible when we contact each other,” Reed broke the silence with a mutter, “or faster.” His fingers tapped a rhythm out against the edge of the table.

“What?” Steve said, and Reed peered at him.

“Stephen,” Reed said, “shouldn't be late.”

Stephen? The outline of the man took shape in Steve's mind, and the irregularity of the shadow formed into a cloak. Stephen Strange had just been here, and more pressingly, had knocked Steve unconscious. But that couldn't be the case, not when Steve was safely standing next to Reed.

A telepath with their illusions, was Steve's first thought as he blinked blankly at the other man. But, the Baxter Building must have countless safeguards against anything that compromising, not to mention the strictest of security measures to prevent anyone, especially superpowered anyones, from entering without notice – a school for _children_ was housed here _._ And as far as Steve was aware, no one who lived here had that level of power.

Steve clenched his fist, and felt the Time Gem dig into the skin of his palm. He was sweating behind his ears, and he badly wanted to remove his cowl. He tensed, ready to spring as he turned around.

Stephen Strange stood there, halfway translucent, his hands glowing. When Steve met his eyes, Stephen's mouth dropped and the image blinked back into reality.

“What are – ”

“I have him!” Arms wrapped around Steve's chest, and when Steve reached to pry them off, they constricted around him even more, like he was helpless prey already caught. “Now, Stephen!”

“I'm sorry, Captain,” and Stephen used the same tired, empty voice he had just heard coming from the man behind him, currently attempting to contain him in a death grip. “We have no other choice. You were never here. You will remember none of this.”

Steve kicked, and the limbs around him tightened, attempting to squeeze the resistance out of him. A stab of pain pierced his forehead, and he could see red wisps escaping from it. The more Steve resisted, the sharper the pain grew. If he let go, it wouldn't hurt anymore, and the idea of giving into that, being so weak, made him grit his teeth, thrash against the restraints harder.

He felt Reed's arm wrap around his neck, and it brought his head up so that he stared at the blank ceiling above them. He twisted, trying to throw his body back, catch his captor off guard, and heard a small, short cry. A hand smothered his mouth, and Steve grunted as fingers pinched his nose together.

Steve needed to breathe, and a strangled, hoarse noise escaped his throat as he forced his mouth open against the hand that clamped it shut, intending to gnash his teeth together. The hand pushed his head back further, baring his vulnerable neck.

“Damn it, Stephen! I can't hold him for much longer!”

“Even now, he resists me!” The pain flared white-hot and unshed tears stung at the corner of Steve's eyes. The agony was ear-splitting. As his eyes rolled back into his head, all Steve could think about was how, this time, his world grew white around the edges rather than black.

“He knows he has to come as soon as humanly possible when we contact each other,” Reed broke the silence with a mutter, “or faster.” His fingers tapped a rhythm out against the edge of the table.

Steve gasped for breath.

“Steve? Are you all right?”

Steve put a hand against his chest and it slowly dawned on him that nothing trapped him. He slid his hand to his forehead and inhaled harshly. Oxygen was sweet and heaven, and his head swam with the clarity of the world.

“Steve?” Reed reached out with his hand, and Steve shot out his own to knock it away. Reed stumbled backwards with the force of the blow, missing his seat and tipping it over after him, collapsing unceremoniously on the ground beneath it.

“Stand back!” Steve barked. He brought his elbow up and jammed it as hard as possible against the man standing behind him, the impact blasting against his chest. Steve heard a pitiful mewl and when he whirled around, Stephen was clutching at his heart, body curled over. A weak but accurate hit to the solar plexus made one feel like the air had been punched out of them; Stephen must have felt like his insides had been blown out of him.

Captain America never ran away. Steve Rogers didn't fight a friend in cold blood. Neither ever felt like their entire world was falling apart at the seams, their mind racing through all the information presented once, twice, thrice over, and failing to process it each and every time.

The elevator doors opened smoothly in front of him when he jammed his finger against the button. Steve all but crashed inside, slamming his palm on the panel for the ground floor. When the doors slid shut, Reed shouting and Stephen still huddled over, Steve backed up against the wall, leaned his head back, and slid down to the floor, boneless.

He assessed himself first. His gasps were shallow and butterfly-light. His limbs were stretched tight, his chest clenched into itself and his stomach caught in an ice-cold grip. But none of his bodily reactions came from exertion, so he forced himself to calm down, take deep breaths. Steve wasn't the type to choose flight over fight, but he had made the right choice; he couldn't even predict what he would have done if he had not retreated, not when his body was in this state. Fighting for his life often put others at more risk than Steve himself.

By the time Steve had the wherewithal to turn his attention to his surroundings, the lights shut off and the elevator stopped with a jerk. He had expected that. This was Reed's building, so advanced it was a being all its own, and Steve didn't even know a tenth of what it was capable of. At this point, even breaking out of the elevator would be a moot point; if Reed didn't manage to track his every moment on the surveillance systems, the Eye of Agamotto saw all.

The Time Gem was still clenched in his hand. When he let go, it hovered an inch above his palm, and its light pulsed. It was active, of course it was, just having been used twice in the past five minutes. Did it count as time if it was repeated? Was it repeated, or was it simply another branch from another universe? Did the actions made in another time-slash-universe matter in this one? Steve's head throbbed.

Reed and Stephen wanted the gem, that much was plain. They wanted it enough to knock him out and – Stephen said he would forget everything. They wanted it enough to wipe his mind. Their ruthlessness proved that, but the resignation behind their actions raised another question. That wasn't a hunger for power, which any Infinity Gem was a constant allure for. It wouldn't have made sense, anyway, not with so much else in arm's reach for those two if they wanted to become two of the most dangerous men on Earth.

No; Steve had seen that look in both their eyes before. Those had been men driven to the bitter end, soldiers trapped in a corner with nothing between them and life but a civilian whose only wrongdoing was being born on the wrong side of a border.

Steve was not particularly close to either, but regardless, Reed and Stephen were stalwart allies, not to mention two of the most accomplished men he knew in the business. Yet they had betrayed his trust. He should have felt hurt, like a knife twisting in his gut, and boiling anger ( _how the other man refused to listen to reason, why such a good person was so blind to what was right_ ). But now, hunched in a stopped elevator, the only light the glow of the stone in front of him, the only emotion Steve could muster up was bafflement.

Everything was incomprehensible, and there was no escape from here that also included the answers Steve needed. What he wanted was for Reed and Stephen to explain themselves, what the hell warranted the gem so badly that they would choose to ambush him and wipe his mind of it. After he knew the answer, then the indignation and the condemnation would come, like they were supposed to.

When he used the gem for the third time, Steve considered what made this betrayal so different from the last.

“He knows he has to come as soon as humanly possible when we contact each other,” Reed broke the silence with a mutter, “or faster.” His fingers tapped a rhythm out against the edge of the table.

“No, he doesn't.”

Reed's gaze shot to him. “You don't want him to come?”

“No.” Steve's control slipped, and his voice came out harsher than he wanted, and he could tell by how Reed hesitated. “He doesn't have to come because he is standing right behind me. Don't try it, Stephen!” he snapped, and now he could felt it, how the person behind him tensed. “I won't let you erase these memories again!”

He had seen Reed Richards shocked far too many times in a lifetime today. Reed raised his hand and Steve bristled, willing to repeat this all over again if he had to, but all he did was motion to the person behind him.

Steve stepped to the side and turned so that both Stephen and Reed were in his line of view. The two of them watched him, none of them willing to break the silence, make the first move.

“Explain yourself,” Steve finally said. “I want to know why you need this gem so badly that you would ambush me.” His fingers tightened their grip around the gem.

Stephen and Reed exchanged a glance. Reed shook his head, but Stephen sighed, shook his head in turn, and looked toward Steve.

“It would be much easier if you handed it over, Steve,” Stephen said. “This is...we are involved in a situation beyond every threat we've ever faced. Of course, between the three of us, that is a staggeringly portentous claim.”

“If it's that severe, then I have to wonder why I'm not in it too.”

“You were there last time,” Reed told Stephen. “I wouldn't recommend this course of action.”

“We cannot take it from him by force. You realize what has to be happening, don't you? He must have experienced this already, then used the gem. He knew what we meant to do before it even happened.”

Reed's face was pinched. “Of course I do. But, there's no chance he would cooperate with us, not after what happened – ”

“He has to! The fate of the universe hinges on it.” Steve was bone-tired of threats to the universe. Strange looked at him, and his expression was distant, as if he wasn't looking at Steve, but at something that lay beyond him. “That, in your hand, Captain, is the answer we have been looking for. It will save – everything.”

“I told you to explain.” Steve hated feeling like this, like there was a misstep somewhere, that he stood lost and alone while everyone else harmonized, worked together seamlessly like the most tightly-knit unit.

Stephen nodded as if he had come to a decision. “I don't need to,” he said. Reed looked grim, but turned around and didn't interrupt Stephen as he raised his arms, beginning a silent chant. “Forgive me, Captain, for what you are to remember.”

There was a splash of red, and Steve's mind burst. Steve could see the outline of Stephen and Reed's bodies on the other side of the wall of blood, but it wasn't all he saw.

The other Illuminati had already taken their own gems. There was one left, and Steve reached for the Time Gem.

_Everything dies._

A world devoid of color, save for the crimson Earth in the sky, and the glow of the gems that each of them held.

_You cannot make an idea real if you don't first believe in it._

The Infinity Gauntlet, the entire universe centered on his right hand, and while the rest of his body strained and threatened to pop with the crushing effort, the other planet was nothing against the palm of his hand.

He pushed it too hard, Steve felt it, when the give of the other Earth gave way and he blindly followed through with the motion. The sky itself retaliated, snapping back and blasting the Gauntlet, shattering the gems in one fell swoop.

Namor punched him, and Steve deserved it, deserved the eruption of pain that came through the fist of the mutant endowed with super-strength, his mind blank with the catastrophe he had wrought.

_Damn it, Steve. Why do you always have to be this way? I'm sorry. I'll find some way to make this right._

The image, the exact one he had seen in too many dreams to count. The blankness of his mind shutting off, magic rewriting neurons, closing off every possible connection to the word incursion, and all Steve could see, all that he strained his focus on, was Reed, Namor, Black Bolt, T'Challa, staring down at him. He had urged them to believe in themselves and what they could accomplish, to not to lose faith in the cause, but in those eyes, hope no longer remained.

Steve wrenched his eyes open to wake from the nightmare. A cold sweat had broken out over his entire body, and he wasn't in the Tower in his bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Steve felt hollow and numb, standing in the middle of Reed's lab.

“You did it.” Steve stared at his hands, and they were trembling. “You did it, didn't you? You, you – ”

Billions of lives flashed before him. He had just fought in an intergalactic war, one that had also claimed billions, but Steve found he had no comprehension of just what that meant.

“It was necessary.” Reed's voice was flat, and a second later he buried his face in a hand.

“We make no excuses for our actions,” Stephen said quietly. “They are beyond forgiveness, or even acceptance. You don't need to tell us. We recognize that whatever it is that drives you to be who you are has long been lost to us.”

“How many!?” Steve's voice came out as a near-shout; he didn't think he could force the words out of his constricting throat otherwise. “How many incursions!?”

“Five,” said Reed.

Five. That was three past the Infinity Gauntlet. Three incursions to prevent – no, not prevent. Of course they had jumped to the one solution, the only convenient, simple, _wrong_ choice. They hadn't stopped anything. They had massacred, and horror curled in the pit of Steve's gut.

“The first one after you – when we arrived, Galactus was already there, and there was no one left to save. The next was already gone, razed by mapmakers who feed on Earths. They benefit from the incursions, as they offer a vehicle to spread across the multiverse. The last one, the Builders destroyed.”

“What?” Steve said sharply.

“An Aleph approached us in the incursion space,” Reed said, “and then they took us to their base in the other universe.” Stephen coughed and shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“They had nothing to negotiate with. No, they weren't interested in the first place.” Reed shook his head. “Their choice had been made, they just wanted to inform us of it.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “An Aleph?” The Builders were multiversal beings, Steve knew that, but to have been on Earth –

The Builders they had fought against – the reason the Avengers had flown out to space was because they were on a trajectory toward Earth. The nexus of the incursion points. Everything of the past few months, of the war, clicked together with terrible clarity. They had fought thinking they had won back their universe, but this...this was just the beginning, Steve realized. If there were others, who knew what Earth meant, then their war would never stop. The sudden weight of it threatened to crush Steve.

“The rate of death in the universe is cascading, Steve. The Builders have decided the solution is to eliminate all axis points of contact between the universes.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “You're saying not just our Earth, but _all_ the Earths – ”

“We cannot continue this discussion here,” Stephen interrupted. “We cannot forget we now have a weapon at our disposal, and no time to waste in retrodding discussions we have already had.” He lifted up his palm, a red light shining in the center, and a matching one lit up in turn in Reed's hand. “We adjourn in Necropolis.”

* * *

Steve strained to keep his eyes open while Stephen brought them to Necropolis, the rainbow streams swirling around them like a tornado, but still couldn't pinpoint the precise moment of change – when the sleek, precise lines of the Baxter Building shifted to masoned rock, surfaces worn away by the passage of time. It was much like trying to find exactly when day blinked to night, and the aptness of the analogy wasn't lost on Steve.

“Steve?” Hank muttered with faint shock.

T'Challa and Hank McCoy were already in the meeting room, left hands raised – presumably in greeting, but the action also displayed the red light embedded into their palms. Reed and Stephen raised their hands in turn. Steve clenched his own into fists at his side.

A flash of blue erupted, and someone emerged from the light. Steve suppressed a slight gasp at the sight of Black Bolt turning toward them. The Inhuman king had come back from the dead before, but this was unexpec – Steve's lips tightened. He should have figured. It was easier to work in secrecy (to _commit murder_ ), when people believed you were dead. Fury would be applauding at the gambit, wherever he was. The Inhuman empire was in disarray, too – maybe the other Illuminati hadn't followed his example and faked their deaths as well because it was more convenient to carry out their plans with the influence they still held.

“What is the meaning of this?” T'Challa didn't even look at Steve as he spoke, but Steve knew what he referred to. Black Bolt, though, did look at him, but his face didn't even so much as twitch.

“There's been a....I suppose you could call it a game-changer.” Stephen quirked his lips with wry amusement. “The holder of the Time Gem has returned to us.”

When T'Challa looked at Steve, it was not as equals, as fellow heroes ( _heroes?_ The idea was the first thing to make Steve want to laugh since arriving at the Baxter Building), but with the scrutiny of royalty. Steve met his gaze without hesitation and opened his hand. Steve caught T'Challa's barely restrained flinch at the sight of the Time Gem. Black Bolt took a step forward, before jerking back.

“Oh my heavens.” Hank was less reluctant to show his reactions, but his voice still came out in a low whisper.

“I need to get the others,” Stephen said. “Even the swiftest Quinjet isn't enough; we must make haste.” Stephen swept his cloak aside and vanished in a blaze of rainbow colors.

“I'm going to speak with Black Swan,” Reed announced, already stepping away. “This is unprecedented, and I will need all the information to study, all the hypotheticals to analyze.”

“I should go with you,” Hank offered, a little too eagerly. “I was just with her, and she might be more comfortable and willing to speak in my presence.” He hurried off behind Reed, stealing a glance back over his shoulder.

Then it was just Steve, T'Challa and Black Bolt, standing by the meeting table. This was where Steve had learned of the incursions, and where the Illuminati had betrayed what was right when they condemned countless lives because they weren't as equal, as _important_ , as those they deemed worthy to save. City of the dead had never been a more befitting title.

Black Bolt took a seat, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Steve watched him, but he made no other move. He must have entered his mind space, Steve realized, the commonality of telepaths. Unlike Hank who had to physically flee, Black Bolt could just cut off communication with the outside world.

Which left him and T'Challa. Steve didn't want to see anyone, much less any of the Illuminati, one-on-one at the moment, but he also hadn't _wanted_ to know that people he trusted and respected had turned out to be just the opposite. Steve glared at T'Challa, and hoped that he would realize the gravity of what he had wrought, and be cowed by the judgment. “We were brothers,” was all he said. His fingernails and the Time Gem dug painfully into his palms as he clenched his fists.

T'Challa remained unfazed. “Brothers we may have been,” he turned away, tearing the tension of the moment away before striding off, “but you forget that, before I am a brother, I am a king.”

Steve remained with no one to – he didn't even know what he intended to do, anymore. In the momentary silence, his skin prickled, something close to fury boiling just below its surface.

There was a harsh bark of laughter when Stephen reappeared, but it didn't come from the Sorceror Supreme. Stephen disappeared as quickly as he had come, while Namor stretched his limbs. When he met Steve's eye, he didn't hesitate before striding up into his space and peering at him. Steve automatically shoved him back with a hand. Namor staggered back, almost losing his balance, and a small part of Steve wished he had pushed with both hands. To some disappointment, Namor found his footing and reared up, standing tall and haughty.

“You should punch me instead, Steve,” Namor smirked, taunting. “Then use your little gem. I wouldn't even remember it. Like it never happened.” He snapped his fingers. “It would be an effective anger management device. Perhaps you'd let a friend borrow it, sometime?”

“Namor, don't test me,” Steve growled. He was on the brink of – something, but he wouldn't allow himself to fall into it. His body wasn't _his_ at the moment, simultaneously numbed and heated by the revelation of the incursions. At the back of his mind, he still wished this was an especially elaborate dream, but his nightmares were always personal. Bucky, the war, the ice. Lately, his dreams were filled with a more recent war. Sharon. Ian. No, Steve's subconscious had never conjured up a fantasy of universes colliding, of Great Destroyers and red Earths and the reality of killing billions with a press of a button.

“He says that like he means it. Oh, but maybe he does; he _is_ the one who would choose to sacrifice his friends when it came down to it.” Namor circled around him, and Steve glared out of him from the corner of his eye. “So it's true,” he said, stopping next to Steve's left, where his hand gripped the Time Gem. “It saved you from being crushed by Thanos, but it couldn't show up in _time_ to save Atlantis.” He spat the word _time_ out like it was particularly loathsome. “Well, that's it, then – even cosmic beings prefer America and their precious poster child!”

Atlantis had been the only location devastated by Thanos's forces, Steve felt a pang of guilt – not for Namor, who not only was willing to kill billions, but had the power to do so, but for the innocent lives destroyed. The unjustness of it made his chest clench. Always, his entire life there had always been so many others, yet every time, they were lost and Steve was saved.

“I wish Atlantis had been spared.” Namor flinched at Steve's admission, turned his back on him, and made his way over to the table.

“Words are of no use to me or my people.”

Steve gazed at the back of Namor's head, and tried to keep his mind blank, not think about what standing here meant. He was expected to _work_ with these people, having been invited to their clandestine meeting. He should have refused on principle, yet here he was. He hadn't even resisted.

He squeezed the Time Gem in his hand, and told himself that with the fate of the universe at his fingertips, there was no time for conflict. Afterward, he could afford to cut all ties with these men – but right now, he had to swallow past the bitterness in his mouth and ignore the ice settled in his gut.

There was one member of the Illuminati left. Steve closed his eyes, trapping the hurt and betrayal into a corner of his thoughts he couldn't reach. It was a coping method he had used before, and that remembrance broke his attempts at reigning in his emotions.

Tony had been the one who had slung an arm around his shoulder, brought him into his lab, and showed the design for the new Avengers team to him with a proud flourish. Tony had stood by his side; no, not just that – he had _led_ him, at times, when they had recruited their new members, sharing a small, secret smile with Steve with every person who accepted their offer. It was Tony who Steve had went to when he couldn't sleep, woken up from yet another nightmare, and hadn't Steve joked once about the nostalgia of getting to relive their early days in the Mansion, then? Except this time, Steve had been content, even as hazy, leftover images of what he now knew were the Illuminati flashed through his mind, because at least now when he found Tony awake in the middle of the night, there were no more secrets between them. They could speak to each other as just Steve and Tony, and not as Steve and Iron Man.

But Steve had been wrong. Tony wouldn't, _couldn't_ be honest with him. It was pathologically impossible for Tony to return the trust that Steve had placed in him. Well, of course, considering he was willing to _blow up an Earth_ as a means to an end. Steve should have realized. It had been beyond mere idiocy to trust Tony again, to think they could ever be open with each other, and stupid, stupid, Steve wouldn't make that mistake again. Something inside of Steve crumbled, and he responded by grinding his foot into the rock floor, teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached.

When Stephen and Tony appeared in a flash of light seconds later, Tony stepped haltingly toward him.

“Steve – ” Even through the voice filters, his voice sounded pitiful. Broken. He deserved it.

Steve didn't bother responding. He walked to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, pointedly not looking at Tony. Not that it mattered, because Tony hadn't even made the effort to lift up the faceplate for his apology. How had he managed to believe Tony could ever be sincere?

Reed and Hank filed back into the room – judging from the stormy expression on Reed's face and the agitated one on Hank's, Black Swan hadn't offered much in the way of explanation. From what Steve remembered of her, she might even think it was an atrocity that the Time Gem, and with it, the opportunity to reassemble the Infinity Gauntlet, had reappeared. For her, it would just be one less Earth to be claimed by Rabum Alal. T'Challa joined them soon afterward, and as they all took a seat around the table, there wasn't one person Steve could bring himself to look at.

“We already know,” Reed laid his hands flat on the tabletop, “why we are here, and why Steve has rejoined us. The Time Gem has reappeared.” Reed motioned toward Steve, and after a considerable pause, Steve released his grip and allowed the Time Gem to float above his hand.

“How did this come about?” T'Challa asked. “And why?”

“Why? Who cares _why_?” Namor drawled, but he stared with the gem with a piercing intensity. “It's here now, so let's make use of it before we end up killing each other for it.”

“No one is killing each other.” Steve closed his hand over the gem again. “I can't answer any of your questions, other than that it appeared in front of me in our battle versus Thanos.”

Namor turned his sharp gaze to Tony. “You told us his son was the one who stopped him,” he accused.

“I told you what I told you,” Tony said simply, and apparently Tony even lied to the people who he was supposed to fight toward the end of the universe with.

“While we're having this charming Q&A session, I have a question of my own,” Hank interrupted. “Steve came to Reed with the Time Gem, asking for help. We all remember,” he glanced meaningfully at Steve with the last word, “what happened the last time we were gathered here with him. I'm sorry, Steve, I do value you greatly, but it was very short-sighted for Reed and Stephen not to wallop you on the spot and steal the Gem. I'm curious why we're not doing it now, myself.”

Steve was angry, of course he was, but he forced a taunting grin to slide over his face regardless, just for show. “Really? Then try it,” he said, “take me out, right now, and steal the gem from me.”

Silence fell over the table as everyone watched him.

“We did try, supposedly.” Stephen clasped his fingers together and rested his face on them. “Steve knew exactly what Reed and I were about to do. If our plan worked, the only one who could tell you is him. There was nothing for us to do other than remove the lock on his memory and bring him here, as the sole holder of the Time Gem, and thus in possession of power far greater than ours combined.”

“You used the Time Gem to stop them!” Namor sounded like he could have howled with laughter. “I had the Power, and I never used it, not even when Atlantis was embroiled in war!”

The gem had activated, but not through Steve's intention, and Steve was able to make the retort before he caught himself. No, it was more prudent that the Illuminati believe that Steve was willing to use an Infinity Gem against them. He couldn't appear weak – not in front of these people, where even Hank wouldn't hesitate to attack him for the gem. If people didn't take him seriously, then his influence, already of little significance to this group, would be in tatters. Steve didn't _want_ to be respected by anyone – even if they were a former friend, ally, brother – who could kill an entire world, but he needed to be.

“If Steve is fine with using the Time Gem,” Tony spoke quietly, “then the simplest solution is to simply – ”

“Go back in time to when I broke the gauntlet the first time around,” Steve finished.

“The simplest, but potentially the most catastrophic,” said Reed. “Everything that we've done from the point the gems broke was predicated on the fact that we had no other way to stop an incursion.”

“It would be utter foolishness to undo it,” Hank agreed. “The consequences are unimaginable.”

Unimaginable. Killing billions of people in one fell swoop in cold blood is what Steve would call unimaginable.

“It would be our last resort. If the Time Gem is here at this present moment, it's possible that the other gems still exist,” Stephen said. “The gems call to each other. If we're unwilling to look to the past, known locations of the other gems, then we should look toward the future.”

“That would still require time travel,” T'Challa said.

“It's the Time Gem, T'Challa, I think time traveling is the point,” Namor retorted. T'Challa shot him an acrimonious glare, and Steve could see the tension in his body, like he could have struck Namor at that very moment. Steve knew relations between their nations had been tumultuous, to say the least, and then Atlantis had been destroyed while Wakanda stood. That was the nature of this group, though. No matter the personal feud between any of them, they gathered to handle “higher”, “greater” causes, supposedly for the sake of protecting Earth, but all Steve saw was men wanting to run the world. And now he could count himself amongst their number, and that made him shudder.

“No, I think Stephen has a point,” Hank raised his hand. “It's...less dangerous, to bring people from the past to the future, than the other way around.” He shifted in his seat and coughed unconvincingly. “Of course, you'll still have to bring it back, but I will be the first to say I would rather we ruin our hypothetical future than not have one at all. It's worth a shot, at the very least.”

“Do we truly believe that?” T'Challa interrupted. “Time travel could unravel everything, make it all for naught, for the sake of what is a one-time affair. The Infinity Gauntlet is a temporary solution. We were all there, we saw what happened. The Time Gem could disappear again as well, putting us back where we started. Not to mention, even if we gather the gems, they won't solve the problem of the incursions.”

No one responded, spoke up against him for several long moments, like – like they were considering his words seriously, and suddenly outrage threatened to strangle Steve.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you people!?” Steve stood and slammed his fists on the table. “You did not just tell us – you did not just sit there and say that the chance to save _billions_ of lives is not worth the effort.” He had the urge to spit on the table to wash the disgust from his mouth, as futile an effort as it would have been. “I'm appalled, I'm revolted, but more than that, I'm disappointed beyond all belief. I thought I knew you people. I thought that we had once fought side-by-side for the sake of good. But I know now I was wrong. Blind. I see now that all you fought for were your own damned selves, your own _right_ , the _power_ to make choices for others that you should not be allowed to nor entrusted with.” The Time Gem started glowing, and Steve allowed it past the gaps in his fingers and it floated above the surface of the table. “Well, I won't let you make this one for me. None of you have to do anything. I hold the gem, I have the power to change this, and I _refuse_ ,” he jabbed his finger at the group, “to blindly follow whatever you want me to do. I will go, and damn you all,” his shoulders sank then, and he glared at each of them in turn, voice turned to stone, “I will do to you what I did to Thanos if you try to stop me.”

No one met his eyes. No one moved. Steve dug his fingers into the table, and wished he had nails to run down the surface, to make it screech. His ears rang with the raw silence.

“Steve's right,” Reed finally said. His voice was pitched low, but in a way, it was even louder than Steve's earlier shouts. “We have...gone too far. I am ashamed of myself. I've been so caught up in protecting our Earth, that I forget that not only do we have a responsibility to our own world, but all of them.”

“If we can save another Earth alongside ours, even just once, then our efforts would have been worth it.” Hank bowed his head. Black Bolt's eyes were closed, but he nodded slowly.

T'Challa was muttering under his breath, hands clasped before him, but Steve's enhanced hearing could make out his words regardless – _Goddess forgive me, for I have forgotten your will. I have sinned and lost my way. I return to you now, a broken spirit begging your mercy, yet only worthy of your wrath and divine judgment._

“Saving another Earth is more than what this useless bunch has managed to do so far,” Namor mumbled, his tone clearly including himself in that statement.

Steve didn't look at Tony.

Stephen met his eyes when he looked at him, and his eyes blazed with intensity. “Steve, to use the Gem to look for the others, you're going to have to – ”

“I have more experience with the gem than you do, Strange,” Steve said icily. Stephen rested his forehead on his hands and sighed almost imperceptibly.

“Just probe, Steve. Don't reach out too far,” he said, “lest you lose yourself.”

Steve didn't bother correcting him. The Time Gem _knew_ Steve's will, would follow his wishes. There was no chance of him losing control of it, or of himself. Without another word, Steve gripped the gem and closed his eyes.

Cold hit him like a shockwave. It was colder than the ice had been, both times, and Steve would have shuddered but at the moment had no body to do it for him. So the cold wrapped around his mind, instead, and it had always been Steve's will, and later his body, that was strong, but his mind? His mind was defenseless, and so it bit at him, relentless, and lodged itself in him, crept into every crevice of him so it felt like he could never free himself.

But he could, something told him distantly. It was cold because he was alone, and he'd distracted himself, ignored how close he was to freezing from sheer solitude by surrounding himself with people he thought would keep him warm _._ But he knew now, didn't he, it whispered to him, that people were weak, that's why someone like him had the strength to protect them. But they were weak, so they would leave him, be stolen away from him, or worst, betray the trust he had placed in their hands.

But there were things that couldn't, wouldn't do that to him. If Steve could only just find them...

 _Show me the other gems. Find me their warmth,_ Steve told the Time Gem.

The Time Gem searched for Steve, searched _with_ Steve, and the certainty of the entirety of time washed over him, enveloping him and surging through him. He forgot anger, hurt, pain and only craved discovery. He peered into a time when Earth no longer existed, not even as a concept, and the name of the Avengers was something further away than even the edge of the universe, in a time when there was no longer language. And perhaps that was too far, so he scoured a time before that, when empires still rose and fell and he saw war after war after war, the endless bloodshed of mortal life, as he peered at nearer futures. Still it was not enough, so Steve looked to the end of their Earth, at the end of its natural lifespan, but humanity did not grieve for their lost home, for they had taken to the stars many millenia prior to the death of its sun. The assurance was fading, and even in tomorrow's tomorrow and tomorrow, five hours from now, two minutes, Steve realized with increasing dread that he had once again distracted himself from the cold.

The panic slowly closing him in its grip made him look back, to that fateful day in the snowy mountains of Pakistan, when everything had truly started to die. And further back, and Tony was the one to hold the Gauntlet this time, but the Gauntlet was...Steve clawed back further, to Thanos and his Infinity Gauntlet, and when he had offered half of the universe to his beloved Lady Death. Back and back he went, to the beginning of the universe, and trying to force himself past the bang that started all things made pain flare up, a searing, white-hot agony that crashed into cold metallic death and Steve wanted to scream until he died.

“Steve! _Fuck!_ Steve!” The voice was high and desperate, but all Steve could register was the faint warmth behind those pleas. “Stephen, what the hell is happening to him!?” Someone shook him, and Steve's entire being jarred, and his brain jostled and snapped back into place with the movement.

Brain. He had a brain, he had a _body_ again. Before he even realized where he was or what had happened, he was staring up into Tony's wide, blue eyes, and he couldn't tell who the wheezing pants he heard were coming from.

“They're not there,” Steve gasped. “The other Infinity Gems. The past, present, and future. They're gone.”

* * *

“Tell me the meaning of this.”

Black Swan's eyes narrowed. “I have already spoken to your Richards.” She scoffed. “The stones! Pah! I told him all they would buy him is time, and that has run out. The power of one mere universe cannot stand before the might of Rabum Alal _._ ”

“It did once, and it will again,” Steve growled, and even that strained his throat.

His voice was shot to hell. The sides of his hands were an angry pink, from how many times he had slammed his fists on the table. The past few hours had been a blur, full of endless shouting, accusations, and argument after circular argument. Every so often, someone would stop to ask Steve what he truly saw, how positive was he, had he missed something, and every single time Steve had to force himself to repeat himself calmly, that he had searched the entire time stream, he had seen the birth and death of the people in the room and everyone they knew, and still the other gems had been nowhere to be found. Once, Reed had turned to him:

“Steve, not that I do not trust you, but if you maybe could try again – ”

“No.” Steve turned to Tony, whose arms were crossed and the helmet was faced toward the floor. “You all saw what happened to him. He looked about two seconds from having a full-blown seizure and shorting out on us.”

“I wouldn't have thought lives, much less mine, meant anything to you.” Steve hadn't intended for the words to leave his mouth, but he found he didn't much care. Tony had flinched, the movement visible even in the armor. It was unfair of him; he knew that Tony did care for him as a friend. But emotions alone didn't build a relationship, and Tony had broken every other part of theirs.

The rest of the table still looked ready to ask Steve to try again, but the subject was dropped for that moment. Not that it did much good for the rest of the proceedings. By the sixth time Hank had suggested Steve hadn't been fully cognizant when using the Time Gem, Steve, it's impossible because the gems had all existed before, in their memories. _I learned today that memories_ _don't mean much_ , Steve had said, and then, unable to take it anymore, had turned on his heel and stormed off.

Well, no, he had excused himself, then left without another word. Going down the floors in castle had seemed a good choice, until he had come face-to-face with Thanos and Proxima Midnight. So that was what Tony had meant by “taking care of it,” and Steve shouldn't have felt a twang of bitterness and irritation at just another thing Tony had hidden from him.

Seeing their statues towering over him made Steve grip the Time Gem a little harder. It hadn't left his hand ever since the Baxter Building, and the sweat had long cooled and clung to his skin and the leather of his glove.

They had all of time on their side. How could that still not be enough?

Steve hadn't intended to run into Black Swan (and Terrax, but the herald's eyes were closed and his chin bowed to his chest, and it didn't matter what he overheard anyway). An interrogation was the last thing Steve wanted to do at the moment. But Black Swan was someone who didn't care what happened to the world, had no investment in saving Earth, and at the moment, the respite felt like a liberation.

“If the Time Gem exists, the others have to, as well,” Steve told Black Swan.

“And you come to ask me why you cannot find them.” Black Swan studied him and her face twisted before her eyes snapped to the side. “Hmph. I see now. The gem despised _nam-us_ , so of course it desperately clings to _ti_. Then it poses no threat to the Great Destroyer's reckoning, the coward it is.” Her shoulders fell. She gazed in the distance, although Steve suspected she wasn't looking at whatever was physically present. “The wheel will catch anything that runs.”

“I know you can speak so I can understand you.”

Black Swan gritted her teeth at him and looked like she had fangs. “You are life, yet you shield your eyes from death. Fool. Life without death is a cancer, with no reprieve from the agony. Life lives to die, and you would deny them their right – no, their _ana,_ their _nam-ku-zu._ You are the one that Rabum Alal would despise most.”

“Your Rabum Alal has done nothing but destroy countless lives for no reason.”

“Lives! They were already rotting corpses, trapped in a curse of mobility. Such an existence cannot be saved, only ended, and Rabum Alal would bless us with it.” She sneered. “One such as you would not understand. The Great Destroyer is not great because he is powerful, but great because he is right. There is nothing that inspires more awe than a life that stands side-by-side with death. But you would not know that anymore, would you, Steve Rogers?”

Steve revealed the Time Gem to her, and its orange glow refracted across her holding cell. “I never have, and I never will,” he said with utter conviction.

“ _Sarru_.” Black Swan smiled – _a pale woman with snow-white hair; no color in her face save for a trace of orange in her eyes and the black of her lips_ – “If you have ever felt so betrayed that the anguish threatened to rip apart your being from your soul, then you know. That is what it means, to have life without death to save it from itself.”

She had said a lot, much more than Steve had expected her to, and none of it was useful. Apparently she had been helpful to the others, but that most likely extended only to her experience with committing genocide, which was probably the knowledge that the Illuminati had been interested in anyway.

As if sensing his displeasure, Black Swan tilted her head. Her smile showed teeth this time. “The _ina abanayyartu_ cannot exist outside of their native universe. If you would find them to delay your inevitable fate, I suggest you search in the places you cannot look.”

Pointless. “I'm done here,” Steve said, turning around. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he exposed his back to her, though she was safely inside her cell, which had built by some of the people most qualified to do so.

“Tell whoever comes down here next to bring more of your french fries.”

Steve ignored her, and as he left, Black Swan called out once more.

“ _Wardum ana simtim alaku. Ana simtim alaku, ti._ ”

* * *

Steve recognized this balcony. It was the same place he had spoken to T'Challa, before Stephen had erased his memories. Back then, he had thought it was peaceful, but a sense of foreboding lingered over it now, trapped in its cracks and seeped into the stone. Steve didn't believe in superstition, but he wondered if he could have found a different place to have his thoughts to himself as he placed his hands against the rock railing. The sky had turned dark, and stars twinkled above him, same as they did every other night, if clearer here than in the city. Steve wondered how he could sleep tonight, let alone ever, with the imminence of the incursions hanging over him. At least he couldn't have nightmares more – no, they had just become reality.

He should have followed his instinct and found another place, he realized, as he picked up the sound of metal boots stepping behind him to come to a pause.

Not this time. Tony always came to him after their fights, to beg forgiveness and talk about how important Steve was to him, how he couldn't imagine living without his friendship. If he thought that way, then why did this keep on happening, again and again? If he cared so much, why did he keep insisting on tearing them apart? Why did Tony only care about Steve's feelings when Steve was angry, with complete justification _,_ at him?

They hadn't even had their argument, but they didn't need to, for Steve to know what this was. “Enough,” he said.

“Steve – ” Tony's voice wasn't filtered, so he had raised his faceplate. Steve's grip on the railing tightened.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He was angry. He had to be angry, but it didn't mean he couldn't be tired of it. He had battled for days straight before, yet had never felt so whittled away and worn-down since he had went to the Baxter Building, which had been only scant hours ago but felt like a lifetime.

Tony tried again. “There was no other choice,” he implored.

“There was no choice, period!” Steve's voice raised, still hoarse from earlier, and he had let himself be pulled into arguing yet again; that was Tony's true talent, after all. He spun around, and saw Tony's helmet was removed and tucked under his arm. He ripped his cowl back then, to be face-to-face with Tony for this confrontation, for that is what this had become. “When your options include _blowing up another planet_ , there _is_ no choice to make!”

“That's not something you can say.” Tony's eyes were bright, and his voice shook. “You can't say there's nothing to do, because you _have_ to do something. You can't just look away when two universes are about to be destroyed.”

“I wasn't telling us to look away!” Steve shouted. “I was telling us to find something else, one that didn't require sacrificing billions of lives!”

“What something else? In that room were some of the smartest people in the world, and we – the Infinity Gauntlet was gone. We had nothing.”

“But you _would._ ”

“You're the only one who doesn't have to worry about ever failing, aren't you?” Tony, damn him, laughed, shaking his head. “If the entire world looked to you and asked you to save them, you could look them right back in the eye and say, without a doubt, 'I will'.”

“I wouldn't say that.”

“Oh?”

“I would say, 'we will'.”

Tony tensed and his eyes flickered down. “Damn you, Steve,” he said quietly, but he might have gone into hysterics then; Steve saw it in his eyes and the uncontrollable twitch of his lips. “In that room were some of the smartest people in the world,” Tony repeated, voice carefully controlled, “and none of them would have believed you.”

“That's rich, coming from you. None of them should believe you, either, considering you lied to them about the Time Gem.”

Tony gritted his teeth. “I – I knew what they would do to you if they knew. If it was just me, then somewhere in the Tower – ”

“And just leave me to believe I'd misplaced the Time Gem, right? Make me believe that it could have fallen into the hands of a super villain, that it would all be on my carelessness. No,” Steve's grin was bitter, “what am I saying? You'd just ask Stephen to modify the previous spell a bit so I would have no memory of it.”

Tony didn't reply, and Steve wasn't sure how that should make him feel.

“It doesn't matter, anyway. I would believe in what I said, because I know it's right,” Steve said.

Steve knew that most everyone else in that room, including the man standing in front of him, could easily overpower him. Outsmart him. He hadn't been there because he was a genius or because he had powers or influence that could make people tremble. What did that mean, then, that some of the most brilliant men Steve knew had made an unforgivable choice? They had failed themselves when left with nothing else.

So what Steve could do that the rest of them couldn't was to believe. To know. There were paths you never took, no matter what, morals you couldn't compromise. If Steve could waver too, be swayed just like anyone else and become less than what he was meant to be, who was he anymore? What was Captain America, then, without his ideals to stand with?

Tony buried his face in his hand, and didn't say anything. When he did, his voice was barely a mutter, barely audible even with Steve's enhanced hearing.

“Do you still believe that?”

“We're still standing here. I have the Time Gem, and we _will_ find the other gems.”

“The Time Gem that showed up after three incursions had to be dealt without it!” Tony shot off. “And the other gems, that oh, _shattered_ when you broke the Infinity Gauntlet and, according to you, are just playing hide-and-seek with us! What you hold isn't hope, Steve. They're delusions.”

Tony's blatant scorn stirred the anger inside of him again, and Steve jabbed a finger at Tony. “Don't say it like you were helpless! You _knew_ the Time Gem was still around! You know it only disappeared! You could have searched for it before it showed up in front of me!”

“You make it sound so easy _._ ” Tony kneaded his forehead. “Even if the other gems still even exist, we had no way of finding them. We tried everything. Me, Reed, McCoy, T'Challa with science, Stephen with magic, Namor and Black Bolt with who knows what.”

“Apparently not hard enough,” Steve spat, “considering all the doomsday devices you built in the meantime.” Tony flinched, shrinking down on himself, before rearing up again.

“And what would you have us do instead? Go on a wild goose chase, hoping against all odds we'd just stumble upon the other ones, which may or may not exist, somewhere in the whole damn universe, when we knew that the incursions would come no matter what we did!? It's not just Earth, you know. If we had allowed the incursion to occur, both universes would have been destroyed. _Universes_ , Steve. I would hope your romp in space taught you something about the size of the place. Are your ideals that sacred that you would be willing to offer up billions upon billions of lives for them?”

The mockery in Tony's voice, the way he formed the words _ideals_ , made Steve see red. He snapped. “Morals are not something to uphold!” he shouted. “They're something to live by! But you wouldn't know that, would you?” He huffed harshly. “You don't let anything lead you but your own rules. You even agreed to erase my memories because I wouldn't follow them. But I'm one of the lucky ones, aren't I? At least I didn't pay the price with my own life.”

Did the other Earths have Avengers? Did they have people to protect them from the countless threats they faced, who would lay their lives on their line without a second thought? If the other Earths had Avengers, had they turned away from their final, unspeakable resort and took the high road, trying to find another way? And the reward for those people and their bravery, their goodness had been...

Steve wanted to throw up.

“I can't believe we were on a team together,” he said, deathly quiet, and Tony couldn't even look at him. “After we find the other gems, you're off.”

“...Okay.” The meekness in Tony's tone should also have filled Steve with some sort of perverse satisfaction, because finally something he had said got through to him (had _hurt_ him), but all it did was add a painful twist to his anger.

Steve couldn't deal with this more. He moved to go back inside – even the ceaseless shouting in the meeting room was preferable to this heavy, choking silence that words couldn't pierce through anymore.

“Steve, please...if our friendship means nothing to you now, you'll ignore me and continue to walk back in.”

Steve stopped, hating himself every second for it.

“Steve.” Tony's voice was small. “I knew this – us – was coming for a long time. There...in my head, I knew it was impossible, but I explained myself to you over and over again, trying to get you to see. I can't remember any of the lines I thought of anymore, all the things I would have said, except this.” When he looked up at Steve, his blue eyes looked like they were made of iron. “Death is the one place I can't let the people I care about go. Not when I have the power to stop them.”

Something stirred in Steve at those words. It wasn't sentiment – he didn't have that anymore, not for Tony, he lied to himself – but –

– _search in places you cannot look –_

He realized, moments later, that he had turned to gape at Tony, and he nearly unclenched his fist and let the Time Gem drop from his hand as everything clicked in place.

“I know where the rest of the Infinity Gems are,” Steve said.

Tony's head snapped up, and his eyes widened. “How? What? Where? Where can we find them?” he asked in a stumbling rush.

Not where, Steve thought faintly. Who.

“We have to find Death.”


	2. Space

Steve took a step forward. He sensed the Illuminati falling into place behind him, the men fanning out in a semi-circle. The tension lay thick in the air, everyone ready to spring forth at a hairbreadth's notice. Steve rolled the Time Gem slowly between his fingers and exhaled slowly before raising it into the air.

The dynamic vibration absorber built into the frame of the cell prevented the resulting roar from actually causing the ground to quake. Regardless, the unfiltered sound made the hairs on the back of Steve's neck stand on end. He resisted the urge to jerk back, choosing instead to grip the Time Gem tightly.

Like a reel started in mid-frame, no delay came as Thanos followed through with his motion, the same one he had been in the middle of enacting before the universe itself worked against him. He threw his arms forward, but the restraints around them snapped his limbs still. He howled in outrage then, as he opened his hands instead, but no energy blasts shot forth from his palms.

No collective sigh of relief came from the onlookers, but the sharpest edge of pressure dulled as Steve and the Illuminati stared down a Thanos with his powers successfully dampened.

Thanos fought to break free, twisting his body with powerful surges in search of the weakness in the holds. The immense force coiled in him was visibly apparent even with his body held in place by multiple cuffs, bars, and everything else that couldn't be seen with the naked eye. Steve rolled his shoulders, feeling the shield strapped tight across his back, and lowered his stance, ready to pull his weapon out at the first sign of trouble.

The engineering of the restraints remained sound, though, without even the smallest creak of strain, which did its part to ease the crushing tension in the room. If the Illuminati couldn't devise something to hold Thanos, Steve didn't know what could.

Thanos stopped struggling, though no one was fooled by the bluff. He stilled and let his gaze drift over the room and the inhabitants in the other cells: Black Swan, who snorted and turned her back, Terrax, seated with his head lowered without any acknowledgment of the world outside the cell, and Proxima Midnight, still stopped in a state of shock. When Thanos looked over the Illuminati, he lingered on Black Bolt for just a bit longer than the others, before his eyes snapped to Steve's and narrowed.

“Quite the gathering you have for yourself here, Avengers,” he growled.

“I suppose I should be a bit scuffed by that,” Steve heard Hank comment wryly behind him.

Steve met Thanos's look with a withering glare of his own, and Thanos relaxed fractionally.

“And their Captain, come to serve as judge, jury, and executioner.”

“This planet doesn't operate on those terms,” Steve replied curtly.

“Oh?” Thanos shifted as best he could, chained with what seemed a ridiculous amount of restraints to the high-backed chair. “Neither did Titan. Simply because regulations of justice were unneeded, when there were no crimes before my time.” He smirked without any cause for doubt of the meaning behind his words. “Nor were there any after.”

The nonchalance with which Thanos spoke of slaughtering his homeworld stirred something within Steve. The air in the room shifted from cold and still to hot and prickling. At least the Illuminati had shown remorse for their actions. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Steve winced. Was he so desperate to salvage their standing in his eyes that he would try to compare them favorably to Thanos? More moral than a genocidal sociopath was no compelling argument.

“You've been defeated and captured by your enemies,” Steve said. “Do you really think you're in any position to try to use your scare tactics on us?”

“A fair enough point, but only for a fair enemy. You think too highly of yourself, Avenger,” Thanos replied. “That, or, even if I am the only prisoner you found fit to chain down, you have greatly underestimated me. You would not make either mistake if you valued your life.” He eyed Steve's fist, the one that gripped the Time Gem, and Steve tensed under the scrutiny. “Do you not think I know that you were only saved through a whim of fate?”

“Making excuses now?” Steve knew he had challenged the accusation too hastily from the triumphant expression that crossed Thanos's face. “You're sounding more and more like a sore loser.”

“A sore loser!” Thanos snorted. “Very well! I cannot disprove even the most outrageous claim without enough empirical data. I am no stranger to the sciences.” He leaned forward, or approximated the motion as best he could in his restraints. “But tell me then, Avenger. Was I the one who made a grievous tactical error in judgment? Were the vanished Time and the other shattered Infinity Gems that I sensed, that led me to lay siege to your planet, all a sham – a part of a grander, more elaborate plan to ensnare me?” His eyes bore into Steve's in challenge, as though he knew perfectly well what the answer to his inquiry was.

Steve straightened and stood tall, refusing to rise to the bait. “It doesn't matter how the Time Gem came to us,” he declared soundly. “What matters is that right here, right now, it's in our possession. You seem to have preconceived notions of us, Thanos. You wouldn't make that mistake if you valued yourlife.” Steve flipped his hand upward. It came like clockwork now, how the Time Gem lit up and rose to hover above his palm in sync. “Don't think for a second I will hesitate to use any means at my disposal. You were lucky the last time when I wasn't completely aware of what I held. Stopping you in place? That's nothing. How about freezing you and keeping you fully cognizant all the while? How about being trapped in an endless loop of the worst things you've ever lived through?” Steve didn't allow his voice to waver from the memories.

“The worst things I've ever – ” Thanos laughed, the guffaw an empty echo in the large, barren room. “You truly have no concept of me, human. Life itself is agony for me.” Thanos fixated on the Time Gem, then, and a small, slow grin slid over his face. “It amuses me profoundly that the power of a god doesn't cow you. Even when you are merely the exemplary specimen of a lesser species, you seem to be made of more mettle than most civilizations who would look down upon you humans.”

They didn't do that anymore, not after the Builder War, Steve wanted to retort. The Avengers had made sure of that.

Thanos's smile turned sharp. “It's addicting once you have tasted the first drop, isn't it? Like ambrosia.”

“He's surprisingly chatty,” Namor muttered. The utterance didn't slip past Thanos.

“I treated the Inhuman king with a modicum of respect.” Thanos didn't so much as bother a glance at Namor, appearing to speak his words to Steve instead. “But my attention is not something a ruler of a rot of a kingdom is of.”

“Damn you – !” Namor snarled audibly. Steve felt him try to surge forward, but a brief flurry of movement later, had been stopped just as quickly as he had begun.

“Has your ego boiled over so much your head can no longer contain it?” T'Challa hissed. “Don't fall for his taunts.”

“Tch!” Namor spat. “That's easy for you to say, when you rule a city only meant for the dead.” Regardless, Steve heard him step back rather than push on with his outrage.

Namor's observation unnerved Steve as well; Thanos seemed to have established some sort of rapport with him. It was like the roles in this questioning had flipped, Thanos calm and deflective to Steve's needling, and Steve becoming increasingly unsettled and losing his control over the turns of the conversation.

“But when I see one who doesn't shy away from infinite power and who instead uses it for their own ends without losing themselves in weakness,” Thanos continued, “why, I can even almost meet them eye-to-eye.” His grin widened to show teeth, manic glee etched into every inch of his expression.

Steve should have expected it after his experience with the Galactic Council, but the absurdity of not meriting being viewed as an equal even with the control over all of time in the palm of his hand was enough to bring forth an amused, wry smile to his own face. If Thanos wanted this conversation to be judged as a matter of ego and worthiness, then Steve could play along. Navigating interactions with the high-minded and self-important was part and parcel of Captain America, the Avenger, and Captain America, the symbol for the people.

“You realize,” Thanos said, “that gem is not yours, and never will be. The Time Gem did not come to you out of some whimsy of a higher being that took pity on your pathetic self.” He scoffed. “The gems are their own beings with their own choices, and they would use you just as well as you claim you can use them.”

Steve clasped his fingers over the gem, shielding its glow from further permeating the dim room. “I figured,” he said carefully, “but if our goals are one and the same, then I don't call that using each other. I call that teamwork.”

Thanos snorted loudly. “To forsake me so, for the sake of a human – Time is a cruel mistress,” Thanos rumbled, and he listed back in his chair a little with that statement.

“But you know one even crueler than her,” Steve pushed, seeing his opening. He didn't allow any hesitation to creep into his voice even as tension lined his shoulders. Not now, when he had to dig into the one sore spot of emotion of a madman who wouldn't blink twice at the most gruesome of murders.

Thanos narrowed his eyes at him. Steve stood tall, allowing himself to be studied without any telling weaknesses. Thanos's eyes were a cool blue, but with the intensity they blazed with, they reminded Steve of the white-hot suns he had observed in space. Back then, they had skirted around those at the safest of distances, but now, separated by merely the amber wall of the cell, the imminent danger was inescapable. Even with the large, open room around him, it felt inexplicably like he had been backed into the corner.

“How much do you know?” Thanos's voice was sharp enough to cut.

“Enough,” Steve replied. “That you're enamored with her. That you massacred countless worlds for her sake. That you even went so far as to use the Gauntlet to give the lives of half of the universe to her in an attempt to woo her.”

Thanos considered his words carefully. “At times it escapes me Warlock is meant to be human too. Of course he'd be inclined to trust his own kind to be privy to information about one of their most...pressing threats.” He punctuated his final words with a smile, which turned the air cooler than the calculated scrutiny he used upon Steve.

No more tip-toeing around, Steve told himself. There was no point in dragging out this conversation longer than unnecessary. He knew the Illuminati behind him agreed, with how he could hear them shift from restlessly from one foot to another, and how he could even make out Stephen's whispered muttering take on a deeper, weightier cadence as he continued to work his imprisoning spell.

“Let's put this bluntly.” Steve crossed his arms. “Your connection to Death is the only reason you've been unstopped, and the only reason we are bothering to have this talk with you.”

“Death?” Thanos tilted his head. “Human, if you wanted death, there are simpler ways to get to her than through me. But if that's what you desire, I could even grant you this favor and deliver you over to her with no trouble on either of our ends.” Thanos flexed his fingers in the space they were allowed. His eyes swept over the gathered Illuminati, a grin affixed to his face.

“Not for what we want,” Steve said. “We need Death to bring something back to life.”

If the bar around Thanos's neck were gone, he would have thrown his head back to roar with laughter. Instead, the uncontrollable peals of laughter made his body tremble and shake. In the midst of his amusement, a tear escaped one of his eyes and rolled down his cheek. The loud and booming laughter rang through the room, setting each of them even more on edge.

“Your insolence should enrage me,” Thanos was still half-chuckling, half-gasping for breath, “but this foolish thinking isn't worthy of anyone's anger, let alone mine. Death? You intend to ask _Death_ to give you back what is rightfully hers?”

“Yes.” Steve held his held high as he met Thanos with no hesitation. “And we think she'll agree.”

The laughter died with those words. The air felt unbearably cold. Steve felt the need to resist shivering under Thanos's gaze.

“Do not think your restraints would hold me if you were to truly anger me with this insolence,” Thanos said. “Tell me, what in your measly lives could warrant something being pulled out from the glory of Death's hold?”

“How about the end of the universe?” Steve opened his palm to roll the Time Gem between two of his fingers. “If the universe is gone, there's no reason to have a Death.” Black Swan's words echoed in the back of his mind. “You need both life and death for either to mean anything.”

Thanos's mouth curved into a frown. It was a long, tense moment before he replied. “You raise a point, human. The power of Death would not be properly acknowledged if death were to become the default state of the universe.” He scowled as if the idea offended him. His expression grew contemplative. Then his lips quirked, amused, and the abrupt change shot chills down Steve's spine. “The end of the universe? How intriguing. The depths of the Inhuman's mind spoke of such enthralling events. It explains your failure to use the Gauntlet, and it explains what could cause the all-powerful Infinity Gems to be destroyed. And you intend to ask Death for the gems back? You believe your luck will fare better upon repeat of the same failed strategy? Is this the best this world's elite can come up with?” Thanos guffawed, the echo sounding around the room to no retort. “The beauty and truth of death is that it is final. If you fail once again, even if it rendered her without a purpose to serve, she would grant no favor twice.”

The Illuminati shifted behind Steve at those words, restlessness worked up again. The prick of irritation that flared up in Steve at that made him tighten his stance.

“We will have no need to ask her again. The Gauntlet will work this time around,” Steve said without a shred of doubt.

“If you will it to, then it would,” Thanos answered simply, and that raised Steve's hackles even more. Who was he to imply Steve hadn't wantedit to succeed the first time around?

“But you cannot summon Death,” Thanos continued. “The dead go to her, not the other way around, unless it is those one in a billion, trillion deaths – a death of personal interest to her. The greatest hero, or the most depraved villain. But,” he swept a scornful glance over the Illuminati, “if the present company is the best you have to offer to her, then that method will not achieve the result you desire.” He paused. “To call Death...she is both the most incomprehensible and the simplest concept in the universe. Why not appeal to the most primitive of drives, then? The ones that spur on every being that will meet their end in her embrace.”

“The need to survive,” Namor said darkly.

“Fear. Lust. And...aggression,” Hank noted, fascinated. “It's a clean, beautiful solution in its simplicity.”

Steve frowned, both at Hank's conclusions and his tone of voice. Fear was impossible to achieve by their means, and the second was – considering Deadpool and Thanos, not the wisest of options to pursue. “How could we make Death angry?”

“Apparently she's simple and primitive.” Tony spoke up. “So how would you piss off a two year old?” He paused for effect, which was just like him.

“You take away their toys.”

Thanos began to laugh again, a deep and throaty chuckle that soon spiraled into unrestrained glee. Rather than unsettle, all the reaction did was aggravate Steve. It didn't matter; Tony's words told Steve he no longer needed Thanos, and he didn't need to subject himself to the sound or his presence anymore. With the gem, Steve didn't have to subject himself to anything he didn't want anymore.

For all Steve could hear in the manic laughter was the sound of a sickening crunch ripping through the stillness of a heated desert day. Steve raised the gem again, it shone, and the loathsome sound was cut short.

Thanos's eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was gaping wide, his knuckles gripping the armrests of the chair. Steve's eyes darted to the side. Returning him to this...state was the one condition that convinced the Illuminati of the necessity of speaking to Thanos. Before, Steve had felt a pang of guilt at the idea of leaving anyone, no matter how depraved, like this, in a facsimile of life. But now, after the fact, he found it more difficult to muster up the same feeling.

Steve turned to the group gathered behind him. The Illuminati's eyes trained on him. So, Steve had no choice but to stare back at them, as part of him wondered if even Thanos's gratuitous laughter could have been preferable to this oppressive silence of judgment and dubiety.

“Steve.” Stephen's face shone from sweat and his breaths came in audible, deep breaths. Thanos hadn't seemed to be struggling against his restraints, but Stephen's state explained for itself just what it took to hold back a fraction of the Titan's power. “Bringing something back from the dead to draw the attention of Death – that's something left to the likes of forces who may be even more ill-advised to make deals with than Death.”

“We won't have to,” Steve said. He looked down at his hand, the orange stone firmly in its grip, and the echo of a crash of a body to the ground looping incessantly in his ears. “If we have time...then it already happened. I know where – when we have to go to find her.”

* * *

Not even five minutes later, they stood in the place where this all began. Not the beginning for the others, at that fateful meeting in Necropolis, but Steve's beginning, in the dust and dry air and remains of a hidden city.

There were no stars tonight. Only the light of a full moon illuminated the field and its inhabitants.

The suddenness with which they had arrived felt – not wrong, completely, but off. He found himself sorely missing the quinjet. Tony had always muttered about improving their speed – they were up to what, mach 2, now? – and thus reduce their response time to emergencies. Steve naturally agreed in principle. But at the same time, he treasured those moments before they arrived on-site, when he could close his eyes and calm his mind, if not his body. Hoarding those precious times before a mission was one of the first things he had learned after the serum.

But with Lockjaw, what would have taken hours took only an instant, a resting of Black Bolt's hand on his loyal creature's flank and an unspoken understanding between master and animal. It was a power seemingly indistinguishable from magic. Magic, even in its most innocuous form, threw Steve's world into disarray, made it unpredictable. He understood more than ever Tony's distaste for it.

Tony, who was currently standing to his side. Steve averted his eyes from the armor, only realizing then that his preoccupation with his thoughts had left him staring at Tony for too long to not be construed as intentional. But all that achieved was his mind turning to Tony. Steve had heard it all before – slander about the coldness, impersonality, and callousness exuded by Iron Man aka Tony Stark, billionaire CEO superhero leader. Hell, he had even bought into it himself, before, faced with a friend-turned-enemy he couldn't even recognize any more.

It would be easier if Steve felt about Tony how others did about Iron Man. It would even be better if he could feel the same way he had over Registration, when Tony's betrayal manifested itself in Steve as a cold, vengeful rage. What really would be best was if Steve just didn't care. But Tony was Tony _,_ and therefore it was impossible not to have feelings about him.

But anything would be better than what the sight of the armor invoked in Steve now. It burned his chest, like the flames licked at the seams of his body. Their conversation on the balcony at Necropolis had done nothing to ease this pressure inside Steve, which threatened to come to a boil. Steve knew what happened to bottled-up containers left alone and unchecked. He shook his head. He didn't allow emotions to cloud his judgment, and he wouldn't do so with this, either. Not now, when the universe's fate was at stake. Not ever, or at least not while he wielded the shield. A question with no answer, a demand with no results was all he could get out of Tony at this point, so there was no need to deal with that. Steve tightened his fist around the Time Gem to the point where he felt his hand trembling.

“What's the feasibility of taking us along for the ride, Captain?” Hank asked. He looked oddly hopeful. The expression was crushed soon enough when Steve shook his head.

“I'm the only one who was there when it occurred,” Steve said. “Bringing others with me would complicate keeping events as close as possible to how they happened.”

“To make it short, the man can't trust us half as far as he can throw his shield,” Namor scoffed.

Reed took a step forward, worry lining his expression. “I disagree, Steve. My recommendation is that you have at least one of us accompany you. Now, I respect your resolve to adhere to the current time stream, but it is a misguided, albeit commonly upheld belief about the nature of time and its manipulation.” He began to gesticulate, drawing lines and branches in the space before him “Just the act of using the Time Gem renders the effort futile. The choice itself births a new divergent timeline, therefore your past recollections may not be significant in the course of events – ” Steve had to clamp down the surge of outrage at the mention of faulty memories.

“This plan is shaky enough as it is,” Tony interrupted, stepping forth in between Steve and Reed. “Let's not toss ourselves in the fire alongside him and blow up the kitchen in doing so. What is there for us to do if we go with him? Do we believe we'd somehow be better at convincing Death than Captain America?”

Tony wasn't far from the mark, but the little he was off spoke volumes. The influence Steve held with the Illuminati lay in the Time Gem in his possession. If any of them went back with Steve, where the Time Gem yet acquired by his past self was ripe for the taking...

He shouldn't have felt anything at the prospect – no, the certainty of what would come if he allowed another to come. There was no longer any reason to trust the Illuminati. The only thing Steve knew about them with absolute certainty was that in the name of self-preservation, they would stop at no cost.

Steve nodded. “This isn't a sortie. It's a negotiation, meaning the worst case scenario isn't death. It's her telling me no.” He stepped back. It scene reminded him of a showdown. That was a scenario that had become too familiar far too quickly. The shield weighed on Steve heavily, strapped onto his back.

“What time is it?” Steve asked Tony.

There was a pause, though Steve knew that Tony could have rattled off the time here, New York, and Melbourne in the space of single breath.

“0117 hours,” Tony finally said. “0417 GMT. 11:17 if you're still on New York time.”

“Give me until 0130,” Steve told Reed. “If I wanted to, I could be be back thirty seconds from right now in this very spot. But if I'm not by the half-hour, consider this a loss.”

“And what if you come back, and we are not here to greet you?” T'Challa asked.

“It's possible your actions could create a branch for yourself such that the very specific sequence of events that led you to us, and us to here never occur,” Hank elaborated with a steady, measuring look.

“That possibility is something I'm willing to risk,” Steve said. “What was it again? I'd rather ruin what we have now than not have it at all.” Not that Steve could do much to make anything worse. If he came back with the rest of the gems intact and found himself alone, it might not be such a bad thing.

Before the rest of the Illuminati could raise any further objections, Steve held his hand in front of him. The Time Gem raised above his palm and pulsed. For a brief moment he felt the beginnings of a crack, of pressure that threatened to burst forth, like the first and last time he had used the Infinity Gauntlet.

But the gem remained intact. It didn't shatter; instead it glowed, the blinding light pouring forth into the night and darkness surrounding Steve. In the instant Steve used the Time Gem, it felt like the world had stopped. The irony wasn't lost on him.

When the light receded, Steve called the Time Gem back to him, enclosing it in his fist before cautiously lowering his arm. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his eyelids before opening them and letting them adjust to the surroundings as he brought forth the shield from his back. There wasn't much to see in the way of landscape, but Steve's attention was drawn elsewhere. A compulsion drew his eyes downwards until they saw what was on the ground by him. Like a punch to the gut, the light escaped from his body as well.

Thor lay in a heap on the ground. His legs stuck out at odd, useless angles. One of his arms was twisted too far, seemingly popped out of its socket, and the fingers on it remained limp. It was an amateur's anatomy practice gone horrific, the proportions stretched too long one direction but scrunched too thin in another. Steve didn't allow himself, not his artist's eye or his soldier's mind, to focus on the details – not the pool of red soaking golden strands of hair, not the crater in what should have been the skull – nothing but the sheer _wrongness_ of the sight, save the bile in his throat erupt forth.

It took far too long for Steve to tear his eyes away. He stared pointedly at the clear ground, rocks and gravel devoid of persons or blood or death. Death – Steve caught himself before wry amusement caught him. There was no reason to be avoidant, not when he had faced what stood next to Thor countless times before and certainly countless times to come. He brought his gaze up.

Death raised her face from the corpse of his friend, but she didn't turn her head. Her cloak remained perfectly still, and that observation made Steve suddenly acutely aware of the absence of wind in this place. It was painfully conspicuous now that it had been brought to his attention. No, he realized with a tensing of his shoulders – not just wind. No sign of any of the elements showed themselves here. The bleak stillness made him feel like he hadn't actually succeeded in jumping to this exact moment where he knew Death would be present, though he knew there was no way he could have erred. There had been too much at the beginning – noise and heat and tension that had deafened his every perception. Steve might have reached where he wanted in time, but not in space. A thin film of hollowness rested over everything in sight. It threw Steve off-sync, for his senses told him that the beings that had been at the battle, his allies and his enemies alike, remained present here, but their presences were lacking.

All presence except the one of who stood before him. Every warning alarm sounded in Steve's mind. Having appeared at this time so abruptly next to her and the mutilated body of his trusted friend, even his will couldn't prevent apprehension from seizing him by the throat.

Steve squeezed the gem between the tips of his fingers, but it was the shift of his arm that came with the movement that reminded him of the weight of his shield against him. He set his jaw and looked at Death truly this time, not just the dread that loomed over her.

Her attention was elsewhere, and it was apparent, even though she had no skin to show her expression or eyes to show her focus, that in that look lay pity and even wistfulness. He followed Death's intent gaze.

Thanos's triumph was on clear display at his supposed victory, his teeth baring a wicked grin at what lay atop the earth before him. He had, it seemed, always been above modesty.

Steve cleared his throat, but it still felt like a lifetime before Death turned toward him. Steve had the distinct feeling of being scrutinized, but he didn't avert his gaze. So he saw when the transformation happened. A skull morphed into a smooth, clear face, with long, blonde, wavy hair. Eyes grew into the empty, gaping hollows, and when they emerged and blinked once, they shone a striking, fierce blue. Steve's breath caught at the startlingly familiar visage. As if sensing his unease, Death tilted her head. She blinked once. The blonde hair shifted to deep black and receded into her head, leaving the strands framed around her face. The color of the eyes lightened but didn't lose any of their intensity. The likeness was still reminiscent of...something, someone, but Steve couldn't identify it at the moment, and that unknitted some of the agitation coiled in him.

It took Steve longer than it should have to realize that yes, Death was still staring at him, but her expression was stolidly blank. Meaning she wouldn't be the one to initiate the conversation, and the absurdity of the thought of Death approaching him to talk was what compelled Steve to step forward.

“I've come here to offer you terms of negotiation,” he began. Death didn't react, which was a reaction in and of itself. Steve held up the Time Gem in front of him. Its glow bathed her face in light, the sight slightly unsettling. “I used the Time Gem to search for the other Infinity Gems. I didn't find them.” Death didn't even so much as blink, so Steve continued. “It can't be that their existences were erased, because the Time Gem's still here and because I still remember the Infinity Gauntlet. Unless we're conveniently experiencing a mass delusion, others remember it too. There's only one thing that can remove something from the time stream.”

Death lowered her eyes. “I do not 'remove'.” Her voice was much deeper than Steve had expected from her appearance. “I receive.”

“Put it that way, then,” Steve said, resisting the urge to snap at her about semantics. Words were just a means to express what lay in the heart. “Remove it, receive it – either way, you can still do the same thing with whatever's in your possession. And that's to keep them.”

“They are rightfully mine,” Death said without inflection.

“You think that, then fine!” There was no good reason to raise his voice. If anything, it was monumentally stupid, but that didn't stop Steve from jabbing his finger at Death. “You wouldn't be wrong about them being your property, if the gems belonged to you from the moment they shattered. But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You couldn't have anyone else have a taste, even if they already _had_ one. So you went and stole the rest of the gems from the past, when you didn't have them. Was it greed? Or,” Steve gave a short bark of laughter, “I wouldn't have expected _Death_ of all things to feel threatened by others gaining power.”

Death's gaze was piercing. There was nothing to do besides meeting her eyes without a trace of hesitation. Or regret, for he had been wrong to lose his temper. Steve was supposed to have a cool head in a battle, and that's what this was. It wasn't the type of fight he excelled at, because actions spoke louder and came easier than words, but it was a fight nonetheless. Steve swallowed. He could use the same plea to Death that he used on Thanos. But how would that place him in Death's eyes? She seemed like the type to value deference, but not in any way that would imply weakness. _Stop questioning yourself, Rogers_ , Steve reminded himself sternly. The impending death of the universe was more pressing than any insecurities he couldn't be affording himself in the first place.

“The multiverse is ending,” Steve said. “All of the universes are colliding into each other. We haven't found a way to prevent this from happening.” _Yet._ “But what we can stop is the loss of unnecessary life. You're not the wrong person to say that to, because I know how this works. You don't want death for everything. You want – need – a balance. Everything lives, and everything dies. Without one, you can't have the other. If we all die, there's nothing left for you. No sense of purpose, no reason to exist. That's the worst fate for anyone to face.”

Death shook her head, and something stuttered in Steve's chest at the response. “You do not have to appeal to my emotions, Steven Rogers,” Death said. “I come to you in this form because it is one you can make sense of and it is one that appeals to you. It is not because we are emulations of the same idea of being.” She looked at him then, and her eyes were clearer than day. “Everything dies.” Steve flinched at the familiar words coming out from a new mouth, but there was no resignation in Death's voice – only an even certainty that rang with the clarity of truth. “It is simply how things are. Even the end of this universe will come with time, for it is the commodity that limits all. You know the inevitability of your own death, do you not? So will my own death come. Everything dies.” She pushed back her hood. Even in the faded light of the stopped world, the contrast between the black of her hair and the paleness of her face manifested starkly. “What I will not tolerate – what I find unacceptable – is the unnatural acceleration of that end.”

The weight behind her words should have lessened the burden on his own shoulders, but as it turned out, while the support of the manifestation of Death could steel one's resolve and sharpen their tenacity, it could offer no solace. Not that Steve expected it. Or wanted it, and he certainly did not need it.

“So you'll help us? You'll return the Infinity Gems? It doesn't have to be here, right now. As long as you release them back into the time stream, I can handle the rest.”

“Interfering with time, now?” said Death, and there were traces of feeling there, curiosity and a tad of wonder. “To save your own selves, you would risk everything.”

No. Not everything. There was a line, drawn clear in the sand, as unmistakable as the star on his shield or the abyss between life and death. There was a line, and Steve would do everything to prevent them from crossing to the wrong side of “everything”.

“It will not be as painless as you presume it will be. You said that my purpose is to maintain a balance, was it not?” A small smile graced Death's lips. “In the name of – you would call it 'fairness' – you must offer something in return for the Infinity Gems.”

Steve clamped down on his irritation. “Preventing you from becoming obsolete isn't motivation enough?”

The smile vanished. “I'm not weak enough to be driven by fear alone, unlike mortals.” Steve had evoked the closest thing to a sneer on Death's face with his words. But that expression was wiped away just as quickly as it came.

“Rather, you said that my purpose is to maintain a balance, is it not? Therefore, I have a proposal for you, Steve Rogers, Captain of time and of life. If my releasing the Gems brings everything life, then give me death as your offering.”

“You...want me to die?” Steve asked, shocked at the proposal. His own death in exchange for billions – it wasn't even an option to ponder.

Death considered him. “Bringing an untimely end to life is what we are trying to prevent. Killing you would be an ill portent to your goal. No – if you are the human avatar for life, then there is also one for death. Offer me them in return.”

An avatar for death? Steve blinked. Annihilus? They even had Thanos – no, she had said they were human. But was there a villain who purely wanted genocide? Ultron, but that brought up the human dilemma once more. All the humans Steve knew – wasn't it always power they desired. Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he flipped through a database in his mind.

“I don't know who you're talking about,” Steve finally admitted. “There's no human I know of who could hold that...honor.”

“You exist,” Death said plainly. “If you're able to represent life, then this person has to be someone who has stood by your side since the beginning. They may have clashed with you to great consequence, but they are also who you return to in the end. An endless cycle of existence despite the fighting and the betrayal, the trust and brotherhood. Such is the nature of life and death manifested in mortals.”

Sam, or Bucky, or – who was he trying to fool? Steve had partners before who he could trust with his own life and with much more, but betrayal? The word made something bubble up in Steve's chest, and he bit his lip to hold back the torrent of emotions. It must have said a lot about him that when face-to-face with Death, _this_ was what caused his body to flare up and freeze stone-still in the same instant.

Until it grew completely cold, the heat of anger extinguished in the swiftest of realizations. “Wait,” he said. “By giving you them, you mean you want me to kill them.”

“I will not argue semantics with you, human,” Death said. “The end result will be the same if you sacrificed or killed them. It is an exchange heavily weighted in your favor regardless.”

One life versus billions – Steve could hear the silent judgment in her voice. But it didn't override his conviction that, no matter how much of his world had shattered apart today, would not waver. He had already known his answer long before he heard the question or the price asked.

“No.”

The silence illustrated Death's shock enough. “...No?”

“I refuse.”

“You refuse to sacrifice one life for billions?”

“I refuse,” Steve repeated.

“I had known humans were driven by irrational emotions to protect those close to them,” Death said coldly, and those words could have frozen over hell, “but to forsake so many – to do so to this extent, by one of their so-called 'heroes' – ”

“It's nothing like that,” Steve said, his voice cutting. If anything, Tony was the last person he wanted to protect at the moment. “Maybe I can't force you to understand with who you are, but you just told me killing and sacrificing are the same thing. If I'm one of these 'heroes', then I don't believe you. If I were truly a 'hero', then I wouldn't be cowed by yours or the universe's ultimatums into doing something wrong.”

“You answer that as one of Earth's heroes. But you know your Death. You would truly say the same, even when you know that given this, they would make the choice to die?”

Tony would. Of course he would, and without a second thought, either. How many times had Steve seen him try to do it in the first place – stopping his own heart, battling past his own body's capacity, careless to his own safety – and the answer to that question spurned him on.

“It doesn't matter. Even if I wasn't his – friend – I'm not going to sacrifice someone to save others. A solution like this isn't one I'm willing to stand behind. This answer can't be the one that would save everything.”

The tension in the air his words spurned on made Steve shift minutely.

“Perhaps you truly are the one who deserves to die instead, for your stupidity.” Death was, by all appearances, several inches shorter than Steve, but she seemed ten times his size at that moment. “Do you understand that if you anger me, human,” she snarled, “then you will have to face the next incursion without the Infinity Gems? I grant you the privilege of changing the end result, and this is how you repay me? Would you allow both universes to die, just to save one person?”

“I'm not saving one person!” Anger crept into Steve's voice. Let it, then, because only he saw the clearly drawn lines no one else could. He stood at the slippery slope's edge, just like the rest of the universe, but he would be the one to refuse to go down it. “I'm just not killing them!”

“Fool. If it comes through your form, then no wonder the life of this universe is being drowned out by death.”

With those words, Death vanished. Steve took a step forward, following on instinct, and faltered when he realized that, true to her name, there was no trace left behind. Something akin to panic, or desperation, threatened to build up inside of him as he realized the emptiness of the world in front of him. It was a dangerous, reckless way to feel, so with a soldier's expertise, Steve stifled his thoughts, his emotions, and his body with them.

In that aftermath of the spontaneous, ill-advised outpouring of emotion, it left Steve hollow, life wrung out of him. In that clearing lay nothing for him. No anger. No hurt. No regrets.

A sudden, bright light snapped the nothingness away in the space of a blink. Before Steve had a chance to react, it blinded him, sparked colorless explosions in his vision. It blinded him, or it let him see all. In that single fleeting instant, from that one bang, emerged something like all of life.

* * *

He woke with a start.

Steve's eyes opened to a blurry, crimson sky and the fuzzy images of men standing over him. It was too familiar of a sight, and his heart pounded, alerting him to unbearable pain in his chest, like he had been stabbed. He surged upright, and his head swam with the sudden rush of blood. That never happened to him, and Steve had to close his eyes to collect himself. Tears ran down his cheeks unbidden, pooling on the ridges of his cowl and flowing out, and Steve's eyes shot open as he wiped at his face in numb shock. His hands came away wet, and he blinked down at them, feeling the streaks of dampness on his cheeks dry.

Someone cleared their throat, and Steve looked up. Hank knelt next to him, and he slowly held out a hand. Steve allowed it to rest on his shoulder, the weight heavy but warm. Hank rubbed at Steve's shoulder gently, and cleared his throat again.

“Are you all right, Steve?”

“I – ” Only when he spoke did Steve realize the tightness in his throat. His bottom lip trembled, and he rubbed his fist over his mouth in show, mostly bringing it up to wipe over his eyes furiously. His hand stung terribly, but he ignored the pain. Even closed, he could feel tears welling up behind his eyes, like a leak turned into a ceaseless current. He breathed out slowly as he pressed his fingers to his eyes, forcing pressure on them and willing the tears back. It was a gesture he had used more than he liked to admit.

There was something important he was forgetting. He had to remember what it was, but no matter how hard he pushed his fingers, pushed his thoughts, he couldn't. He remembered telling Death no. He remembered Death's anger at that. He grew cold.

“I'm fine,” Steve finally said as he opened his eyes. It couldn't be that important if he didn't remember what it was that tugged at the edge of the mind. Compared to what had happened with Death, nothing could be that important. He glanced down at his fist, and saw that the knuckles were raw and bleeding, which was – he looked up and around. Hank was next to him, of course. The rest of the Illuminati were fanned out around them, most of them looking away and appearing distinctly uncomfortable. Tony stared straight at him, but it didn't tell Steve much, not with the faceplate. Steve hit his fist against his chest and cleared his throat. His eyes still stung as he lifted himself to his feet, Hank watching him carefully.

“Do you have any news for us?” T'Challa asked with an edge of trepidation.

“Not like you do for me,” Steve replied. His head tilted back at the sky. The red seared itself into Steve's vision. Steve couldn't find it in himself to be shocked, or appalled.

– _you will have to face the next incursion without the Infinity Gems –_

“It is 0123 hours. Our lights alerted us not even a minute after you left, and the incursion officially began three minutes ago.” Seven hours and fifty-seven minutes. The weight of those numbers settled upon Steve's shoulders.

_Would you allow both universes to die, just to save one person?_

“Steve. We must know what came of your liaison with Death,” Stephen spoke sharply. “Were you able to come into contact with her?”

Steve couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. So he looked down and realized with a start the Time Gem still gripped in his hand. He could still see the whiteness of that explosion after Death had vanished. That must have been her doing. But the explosion had knocked Steve out, and every other time his consciousness had been threatened, the gem had triggered on its own.

Never mind. This wasn't the time, not when the red of the sky made the ground look like blood. If the world came to that, would the blame be on him? Steve shook his head, clearing away his thoughts in a jumbled mess, before realizing what that could be construed as by the people watching them.

He raised his head to meet the Illuminati head on, but a stunned curse interrupted him.

“What the – ” The voice modulations in the Iron Man armor didn't obscure the dazed shock. A bright purple gem floated in front of him, and Tony raised his hand underneath it. But before he could catch it in his palm, a dazzling light filled the field.

The wide, open space of the field vanished, brutally replaced by a stifling thickness. Steve blinked at the stone table in the middle of the Illuminati's gathering place, at the castle in Necropolis. Then he shot his gaze to Tony again, who held the Space Gem between two of his fingers. The Time Gem in Steve's own hand pulsed as if in reply.

“So you did actually manage to achieve your goal,” Namor said wryly, and Steve was about to rebut him. He had refused Death's offer, so the Space Gem _couldn't_ be here. Not unless she had changed her mind, and Death never changed her mind.

Yet here was the Space Gem, which had been in her possession. Steve's body felt too tight for him, because he needed answers but didn't want them.

“I'll be damned,” Tony said as he lifted up his faceplate to gape at it. “What'd you say to her to get her to agree? ” He looked up to meet Steve's eyes, but quickly broke eye contact to look away. Steve swallowed with more difficulty than he should have.

“I told her what I told Thanos,” he admitted, and his mouth tasted bitter with the omission. But did it matter, when the Infinity Gems had returned? Even if he had snubbed Death, she had released the gems from her charge.

But they didn't know that for certain. It would be an effective tactic – to tempt them with their award, lull them into a sense of complacency, then snatch it away at the final moments, leaving them desperate enough to do...anything. Steve was reminded again that there was something important he was forgetting. He didn't look at Tony.

The Gauntlet required all six gems to work. Just one withheld could be their downfall, them falling headfirst into a trap.

“Time and space,” Steve heard Hank say thoughtfully. “How oddly fitting.”

“But the other ones are unaccounted for,” Stephen interjected. “Did Death tell you to prove yourself through some sort of trial?”

Steve shook his head. “This is as unexpected on my end as it is for any of you,” he said, and found the truth didn't relieve the acrid taste of his tongue. The admittance was even more damning than the silence, really.

“Here's what we'll do,” Tony piped up. His boots clanked against the floor as he made his way toward Steve. The gems held by the two of them glowed more intensely as they were brought together. “I thought so – there's an attractive force between them that increases the closer they are.” Steve tightened his grip as he felt the tug of the Space Gem on the Time Gem. Like Tony had said, they worked like two magnets. Even more than that, a tension encased in the Time Gem rose higher and higher as the tug increased. Unexpected strength poured into the palm of his hand.

“I wonder what'll happen if we use them together like this,” Tony mumbled. The distant awe in his voice told Steve that he was feeling the same pull. “We're masters of time-space; if these can't do it, then Death truly has forsaken us.”

Tony's eyes drifted up and met Steve's. Steve realized with a start this was the closest he had allowed Tony next to him since the – revelation. The betrayal, and his lip curled at that idea. It had only been yesterday, when this downward spiral began, when Tony had lied to his face about the Time Gem. No, what was he kidding? Tony had been lying for months, since that night he had introduced the Avengers World to Steve. It was a familiar struggle, reason and sentimentality wrestling with each other as thoughts about Tony surfaced.

But now, for some reason, the idea didn't sting as much as earlier, the individuality of Steve Rogers crushed by the weights of the universes held by the each of them. It would be too easy to get lost in, this sensation of ephemeral insignificance, a small voice in him whispered, but he found it hard to listen or to care about the dangerous implications. The Time and Space Gems pulsed in unison when Steve and Tony raised them together.

“How do we do this?” Steve asked.

“They're doing it for us already,” Tony said quietly. It was true. The gems pulsed faster and grew heavier as they were brought into closer proximity to each other. Tony lifted his eyes from the gems in their hands to lock his gaze on Steve. One part of Steve's mind was filled with nothing but the image of Tony's face, the sunken hollows in his face and the clear blue of his eyes, and the fleeting thought of how damn _exhausted_ Tony looked was the only clear thought to shoot through the haze. But the other, heavier images that begun at the back of Steve's mind came to to shunt away the rest, Tony's face blotting and blinking into the colors of all of space-time. Maybe it was because Steve had an anchor to reality, someone to ground him, but what he saw now were not ancient, far-away places or concepts or thoughts like when he had searched the last time with the gem. Neither did he feel any emptiness or coldness – if anything, his mind was lavished in comfort and enveloped in warmth. He might have been content to languish in the sensations forever, and he distantly thought that if he possessed a body in need of rest at the moment, he could have been lulled into an eternal sleep.

In one instance, Tony's face was replaced by the golden armor, ice still melting away from Steve's body as he stared up into his new future. Tony looking a little sheepish as he wrapped a red sweater around his waist after their encounter with Molecule Man, and yes, their benefactor had been their most trusted teammate, wasn't that funny? Tony finding Steve at the beach after their incident at the Vault, and by the end when they shook hands, Steve felt more at ease than he had in a long, long time.

It was too much, these memories of a naïve and brighter time. Steve yanked himself away, and felt the setting jar and stretch. Jan was back, and here he was, next to Tony, watching over their Avengers team and friends and allies bubble with excitement and cheer – just what Jan had always been best at bringing out in them. Tony with vivid eyes and what Steve saw now as a forced casualness, somehow feeling the need to reign himself in even when entranced by the screen that listed their new Avengers roster, their Avengers World, and Steve felt himself (his other self, his past self) quirk his lips fondly, for the whole-hearted dedication Tony showed was something he never tired of being witness to.

Someone jumped, and it wasn't Steve; it took him a moment to realize that there were two people witness to these memories. Tony was the one to shove the vision aside this time, and an inaudible screech surged through the gems before the illusion shattered.

This was safer, Steve decided. Some of the new images were familiar, and some of them were not – he had seen this civilization before, this war between two hated enemies, a feud long-standing and that lasted centuries – long beyond any of the individual life-spans of the soldiers who fought in it. The next was an empty, barren planet with an orange earth and a red sun, and he watched as a small child emerged from a burrow in the earth and shielded his eyes as he squinted toward the relentless sun. The next one made Steve's heart swell with pride; a small gathering of – gods, they couldn't be anything else, and they must have been on some far-away planet, in some distant galaxy that hadn't revealed itself to Earth yet – and the easy way they chose to do what was right, how they didn't hesitate at any dilemma. It was a resolution Steve aspired to. A small echo of affirmation came from the other person watching the world alongside Steve.

Next they saw a screen full of code and computations, and Steve's thoughts were jarred at the incongruity of the image. But it must have been Tony's turn to marvel because a muttered thought sounded through their connection, _P=NP, I was right, those damn bastards_ , but there was no contempt in that voice. It must have been some type ofHoly Grail Steve didn't understand the significance of; he could tell by the waves of Tony's awe washing over him him, and it was enough to make his mouth go dry and his eyes feel a little misty from the sheer pride and satisfaction that came with it.

This overwhelming emotion couldn't distract Steve from a sudden epiphany that screeched their search to a halt. That was it, Steve realized at the same moment Tony did, because a surprised little _ah_ sounded in the corner of his thoughts. There it was. Both of them raced toward the draw of what compelled them, the unmistakable pull of an Infinity Gem, and Steve felt breathless for all of the lungs he didn't have. When they reached out in unison, they were hurled back by an immense force, mindbogglingly powerful like a head-on collision with the Hulk.

The force blew back their minds once more. Steve gasped as his thoughts were battered by the possessiveness, anger, greed, fear, lust for the gem felt by – it had to be someone else at the other end, someone who experienced everything that in turn flooded Steve's senses. He was overcome by love, adoration, awe, protectiveness, and didn't it make complete, perfect sense that an Infinity Gem would evoke infinite emotions from its bearer? Nothing else could make Steve feel that way, nothing save for – and then Tony reached out and yanked at Steve, breaking the spell with a sharp snap. They didn't speak for several moments too long, gasping as their minds were brutally reminded of their physicality.

“The Mind Gem,” Steve finally said. It was indisputable; the strength of what repelled them was something not meant to be possessed by a single entity, not even if they were the universe's greatest telepath.

“I'm betting the holder had no idea where we were coming from,” Tony replied, breath a little short. “That battering we took was like a brick wall. Not how a telepath would react if they knew people were encroaching on their mind. But they sure as hell knew what we wanted. Death isn't making this as easy on us as with this schtick of theirs, are they? Some type of fetch quest?” The purple of the Space Gem glowed as he raised at it, a grin quirking the corners of his lips. “But we have all of time and space at our disposal – does she really think it'll really be so difficult?”

“We don't underestimate our enemy,” Steve said, but he knew what Tony was saying. How, with the gem in his grasp, he believed there was no way he could lose. How, with Ton – the power of the Time and Space Gem combined at their disposal, defeat wasn't even a possibility he entertained, whether it be eight hours or the force of an entire universe against theirs. Was this what it was like to feel like a god? This sense of imperviousness might have been how countless enemies of theirs had been defeated, their hubris blinding them to their weaknesses. He and Tony couldn't be allowed to end up like that, Steve decided in that moment, no matter how much conviction and stubbornness flowed through their veins.

“You discovered the location of the Mind Gem?” Stephen asked a bit haltingly. Steve tore his attention away from Tony to the rest of the Illuminati, and the way they stared at him prickled across his shoulders when the meaning of what had happened struck him.

Reed buried his face into his hands and exhaled slowly with an audible shudder. The rare display of emotion made Steve want to fidget. It made him remember the tear streaks still dried on his cheeks, and he suddenly understood the hesitation the others had shown at his own outburst. But the tears didn't bother Steve, he realized, and that was the strangest part – that he hadn't, up until now, really questioned what brought the tears on, or even felt particularly shamed at shedding them in front of his most tenuous of allies.

“Fantastic,” Namor muttered, but his voice shook. “The entirety of the known universe rests on the shoulders of two men who can barely look at each other.”

Neither Steve nor Tony deigned that one with a reply. It was redundant – they were the last people who needed to be told it in the first place.

“Here's what we do next,” Steve said, pushing the question of Death's motives and the inevitability of working with Tony aside. There was only one thing to do right now, and luckily, time was on their side. Steve glanced around the table at the faces of the Illuminati gathered there, taking in the steely determination in their expressions. “We draw up a plan of attack.”

* * *

When the light of the gems died down, the first thing Steve noted was the air, unnaturally still on his skin and metallic against his tongue. He took a moment to gather himself and to take in his surroundings, which, much to his surprise, was outdoors in a wide-open area at nighttime, rather than an enclosed space like his initial impression suggested. Tony stood by him, unmoving and silent. Steve took off to survey their location, knowing that what he couldn't make of this place with his senses, Tony could with the armor.

They were standing on the edge of a cliff. Sharp edges of rock jutted forth on the steep incline, the side sloping down to the desert underneath. Steve judged it to be at least a fifty foot fall. In terms of visibility to potential hostiles, it was as undesirable a strategic location as any. On the other hand, at this height, they would see anyone approaching them, plus it was ideal for scouting the wide expanse around them, especially since the time of day they had arrived at wasn't in their favor.

Then again, if they weren't worried about being seen, Tony could take him on his boot, like they always did – had done. There would be no more of that, and the thought made Steve turn his back from Tony.

“Similar humidity levels to Greenland,” Tony remarked, “and atmosphere-wise it's almost identical to Earth.”

Steve turned his head sharply. That couldn't be right, the air was too – he frowned. No, Tony had a point, it really didn't feel out of place for a desert on their home planet. It must have been the effects of the Time and Space Gems still distorting his perception. Nevertheless, Tony's readings of this planet signaled an opponent that was likely humanoid in nature. That was good intel; there had been little they could ascertain about their foe beforehand beside the time and place where the Mind Gem had blocked their advance. The time and place, which was –

“I'm not getting anything else,” Tony admitted, interrupting Steve's thoughts. “Not with the armor, at least.” He looked toward Steve, and Steve had long learned to recognize a meaningful gaze from Tony, even if it came from within the armor.

“We agreed the gem's usage is a last resort,” Steve replied automatically. Tony shrugged.

“Then it'll just be a matter of time because I can bring out this baby,” Tony said wryly, and Steve shot him a cutting glare before glancing down to the compartment in the armor he had seen Tony slip the Space Gem into earlier. “I'm just letting you know, we're beacons for trouble. We have to make full use of all of our resources when we're backed into a corner. Trust someone who's been there too many times to count – sounds just about where we are right now.”

They weren't just talking about the Infinity Gems anymore. “Not always,” Steve said harshly, “there are things you don't do just because you're desperate.”

“You obviously don't realize – nix that, refuse to even entertain the thought – what the other Illuminati, at this very moment, are doing right now, do you, Steve?” The words cut deep.

This wasn't an argument he wanted to repeat with Tony. But every time Tony tried to explain himself again, Steve needed to close himself off either further, needed to jab back with twice the precision and force, straight to the points that he knew would shake Tony, would shake any decent person, no matter how much he played it off. He had to make it perfectly clear that Tony could not wear him down here, and he was a blind, witless fool to even make the attempt. What kind of person did Tony expect out of Steve? They had known each other long enough, and Tony was smart enough to come to a conclusion on his own. Then again, Steve thought he had known Tony long and well enough, too. A good heart underneath layers of armor, both literal and metaphorical. That had meant something to Steve, that struggles and misguided actions couldn't tarnish that fact. He had been wrong, though. Apparently they could.

The only time Steve would be able to stand next to Tony and look him in the eye was when they were saving a world together, not murdering one.

But how long had it been since they had done that – protected people – together? Tony hadn't joined the Builder War when the Avengers had saved a universe, and sheer scale of the light Steve had once seen the war in seemed laughable now. Tony couldn't even protect Earth from Thanos. What had he been good for? Steve winced, and a wave of disgust with himself washed over him, for contemplating the value of another person like that, like they were a checklist of successes and failures with a sum total.

 _Judge, jury, and executioner_ was what Thanos had called him. He was wrong. There wasn't any purpose in a Captain America who would judge other people's worth.

“I might have hope, but I don't have delusions,” Steve nearly snapped. “You've proven what type of answers you are willing to take.”

It didn't matter anyway. Stephen, then Hank, then Reed had explained the process of the Infinity Gems' powers in turn, becoming increasingly convoluted by the sentence. Essentially, the Time Gem didn't provide time travel so much as it created a temporal bubble for those who entered it, because as far as Steve could make sense of it, time couldn't hold itself together any better than any other no-name band of villains. He hated this stuff.

But it meant that the time they spent here would barely be reflected by time's passage on their Earth, just over seven hours away from its incursion point. The Time Gem was one hell of a delay tactic, that was for sure. Didn't mean their highest priority wasn't still collecting the Mind Gem as fast as possible, Steve told himself, even as he turned toward Tony.

“I told you you were off the team,” Steve said abruptly.

“I heard you the first time.” Despite the flippant tone, Steve could feel Tony's questioning gaze on him. Steve shook his head. Tony wasn't the one who had the right to questions right now, not when he had always been the one to know everything, the one who betrayed and used people he called his friends. The word really didn't mean anything to them anymore, Steve told himself past a tightening in his chest.

“Can I really tell you that?” Steve blurted. “An Avengers world, the mightiest to assemble when dark clouds spell our inevitable peril...it was just a means to an end. Your end. While you and the Illuminati dealt with the incursions, we would take care of everything else that might hinder you in what you wrought. The Avengers were just...pawns in your little game. We thought we were saving everything, protecting anyone, but we were just the grunts sent off to _die_ , the sacrifices to _stall_ so you could unleash hell. How could you use m – our team, our _friends_ , like that?” Steve struggled to keep his voice low and even, and the bottom of his throat fluttered with the effort to not tremble.

“No,” Tony said without a pause or any hesitation. But he did abort his hand movements a few times, before reaching up and yanking his helmet off, and Steve knew with a single glance that Tony decided to tell him the truth for once.

“I know what you think of me,” Tony began, “and I know I've done nothing but lie to you this entire time, but listen me out. _You_ saved the Earth. _You_ saved the universe _._ It's true that I came up with the concept, but that's all. I'm an engineer, Steve, so if you can't take my word for it as Iron Man, take it from me as a man whose entire life has been dedicated to building things that work. Without the execution, without real heroes to back it up, Avengers World means nothing.” He paused, expression unnervingly open. “But you pulled it off – everything you did with Avengers World, _you_ accomplished. Not me. It was all on you, Steve. You and the Avengers. You don't have any basis to doubt all the ways you've made things better, especially not when this universe needs it so badly.” Tony looked stricken for the slightest of moments, enough to make Steve doubt it was there in the first place. Tony's features steeled. He turned away.

Steve's skin prickled, staring at the back of Tony's head. But these pretty words were the same lies Tony had fed him before, he reminded himself hoarsely. Tony couldn't even find it in himself to bother answering Steve's question. An appeal to his emotions – that was all Tony believed he needed to crawl back into Steve's good graces.

 _We have to go bigger_ and _it's an Avengers World_. But was this truly an Avengers World, protected by those who would lay their lives on the line, those heroes who gathered together to better serve those who needed them? The entire foundation of the Avengers was to do together what one of them couldn't accomplish alone, yet Tony had gone off with the Illuminati and made decisions for an entire world, not daring to trust anyone with their secrets. They had already seen what happened when one of them disagreed.

Tony was no Avenger, Steve realized with a daze. This wasn't with the blinding fury that had gripped him before, but instead a cool finality reached even by logic and reasoning, Tony's favorite justifications. If you couldn't trust your team, then you didn't deserve to be trusted by them in turn. No team could be built without that vital foundation.

“I assumed these gems made us all powerful,” Tony said, and obviously he wanted to change the topic as much as Steve did, though driven by guilt rather than hur – bitterne – anger. “Time and space and that jazz. But people sure throw a wrench into your well-thought-out plans, don't they? Our styles may complement, but face the facts, like this, thrown in the field with no intel and no useful input to note,” Tony tapped the edge of the helmet tucked under his arm, “we're both brawlers. That's no way to approach someone with the – ” Tony frowned and stared off into the distance. “The...”

“If you just see yourself as a brawler, then you need to reevaluate your line of thinking,” Steve said. Even Steve didn't see himself that way, and there wasn't much more to his fighting abilities than physical force. Not much to turn the tides in any battle compared to the capabilities the Iron Man armor or the person inside had. Regardless, Tony's non-sequitor worked, because Steve let his eyes roam over the desert around them.

“I concede to your wisdom then, Cap,” Tony said in a way that made clear the end of their conversation.

This was too easy – one moment he disbarred Tony from his team, and the next he moved in perfect synchronization with him, like they always had.

Steve kept his sight firmly away from Tony, but the view he saw didn't comfort him any more. No stars blinked down at them from the night sky, but there was a full moon, huge and eerily stark in its imposition. That alone shouldn't be enough to spook Steve, but he couldn't shake off the foreboding it and this entire place invoked.

“Let's go,” he finally said. “We won't be able to find what we're looking for if we can't see anything. We'll scout.”

“We'll get them,” Tony remarked as they turned and walked away from the edge of the cliff, Tony fitting his helmet back on his head. They managed half a dozen steps before Tony stopped, and Steve turned to shoot him a glance.

“Get them and their – wait up. We forgot something,” Tony scoffed, and he poked at the side of his gauntlet. The Space Gem's glow was dim when he pulled it out of the compartment, and Steve tilted his head, unease rolling across his skin. His heart had inexplicably started to pound. That told him there had to be a reason for his accelerated heart rate, even if he couldn't identify the source at this very moment.

“Why bother walking around when I can take us anywhere?” Tony asked as he turned the gem over in his hands. “We'll find it ten times faster like this.”

Steve gulped. Sweat beaded on his face as he looked at Tony, then at the gem. He stepped forward and raised his hand to Tony, who was looking at the gem with a wicked gleam in his eye.

He had to stop Tony somehow, his instincts and the look on Tony's face told Steve, but what could he do in the face of an Infinity Gem? It was a silly question, he realized scant seconds afterward. You just had to become equally as powerful. Steve reached into his pocket and gripped the Time Gem, and by the time he pulled it out it had already activated, its glow calling out to the one emanating from the Space Gem.

When Steve breathed in, his throat was achingly dry as he stepped toward Tony.

“Steve?” Tony's voice was far and faint, but Steve's eyes were focused on the gems in their hands. He squinted at his own hand, and when he raised his arm, the Time Gem grew brighter in response. The gesture triggered something in the back of Steve's thoughts. Like he was looking at himself in the third person. The motion an echo of those already performed once here.

That wasn't right; this place was – it was only a facsimile of the desert they had faced Thanos in, so it made sense that raising the Time Gem only had an uncanny similarity at most. The moment the reality of where they were hit Steve – this half-copy of Earth, the fact that they _shouldn't use the gems at all,_ the gems – both his and Tony's – vanished.

Steve blinked at his glove and turned it over, staring blankly at the back of his hand.

“They're gone,” he said, “they're just gone.” This place brought back too many echos of times past. Steve pressed his fingers against his temples and squeezed the image of snowy mountains out of his mind.

Tony had been rendered speechless, and when Steve glanced up, he saw him staring straight at him. _It's not my fault this time_ , Steve wanted to snap back, but then Tony shifted closer to him.

“Steve. Behind you.”

Steve whirled around, raising his shield as he turned like clockwork, and immediately took a step back so that he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Tony.

Demonic beings blocked their path. A better assumption would be aliens – tall, thin humanoid husks with off-green coloring and eerily sharp, blue eyes. None of these type had shown their faces in the Builder War, and nudges of familiarity nagged at the back of his mind. It was easier to think over that, than how he and Tony had both been caught unaware without even a whiff of warning. Steve raised his shield and glared at the one in the center of the group, his best guess for who were the leader of this crowd.

“Who are you!?” Steve demanded.

One of the animalistic creatures that accompanied the aliens, appearing as some sort a wretched wolf with scarlet eyes and rotted teeth, two of them producing like tusks, snarled at him and Tony. A cat-like creature with knobbly gray skin peeking through patches of its matted fur hissed and crouched as if it were about to pounce.

Steve didn't take the bait, and neither did Tony. Tony had to also be acutely aware that stepping back would bring about an even more precarious situation, with their backs to the edge of the cliff.

The person at the head of their ambushers who Steve had addressed stepped forward.

“Avengers.” The word came out in a sneer, and the alien's lip curled in disgust. He glanced over Tony before settling on Steve, and his wide eyes reminded Steve of an overblown insect. Steve frowned in return; the alien knew who they were, and the reason for that was on the tip of his tongue.

“I remember you,” Tony said at the same moment the familiar visage dawned in Steve's mind. “You're one of Thanos's cronies.”

The alien – Ebony Maw was the name listed on that file, Steve recalled – gritted his teeth for a moment. Then his face smoothed over, although a still noticeable tightness remained at the edges of his expression.

“I do not believe you realize who you speak to here when you utilize that half-barbaric attempt in goading me,” Ebony Maw replied coolly. “Especially when the 'crony' has become more powerful than the Mad Titan, and the rest of the named beings in this universe.” With those words, he snapped his fingers.

The Time, Space, and Mind Gems appeared between Ebony Maw's fingertips. He rested them between the gaps in his long, bony fingers and smirked. Steve could do nothing but gape blankly.

“But I shouldn't be a hypocrite; overpowering you through power you cannot even begin to comprehend would be more primal and brutish than even you humans warrant. What will Earth's,” he pronounced the word in a scathing tone, “protectors do when they cannot even protect themselves? When one of your own – though you'd consider them corrupted, considering how you treat humans with the barest of genetic mutation – was too cowardly to save you, the _Avengers_ had to rely on a whim of fate.” The Time Gem shimmered in response. “You're barely worth my attention now that I have what I needed.”

Steve's mouth went dry.

“You were there. You killed Thanos's son.”

Ebony Maw scoffed. “Manipulation only works if the people you use _do_ the things you want. There's no use in a coward, no matter how potentially powerful they are.” He twisted the gems through his fingers, and it looked off, like one of them should have slipped free and fallen. But they didn't, and Steve couldn't know anymore if it was because his eyes weren't able to be trusted with the holder of the Mind Gem before him.

“I have no hopes for you in a battle of minds, so I will allow you the humiliation of falling in combat. Embarrassing – shameful is how it appears to me, although your kind has convinced yourself that even with the guarantee of loss, a needless, hopeless fight is some show of 'courage'. Another term for stupidity, and I should be the one to say that.” Ebony Maw plucked the Mind Gem from between his fingers and raised it next to his face. Its pale blue glow matched the color of his eyes, like some great cosmic joke.

Like the gesture was a metaphorical gunshot, the demons surrounding them leapt on cue. Steve raised his arm, bent his knees as the claws of a beast crashed into his shield, prepared for the jar through his arm but still gritting his teeth at the impact. He pushed up with the shield, forcing the weight off of him as a repulsor blast shot past him. Tony aimed two more shots from behind Steve and downed an alien preparing to aim a strike with his blade at Steve's legs. Steve pushed forward against the onslaught, shield still raised to protect his upper body while kicking away at anything that tried to get his knees. Tony handled the enemies who tried to catch them by the side or attempted to circle around their back.

It might have looked odd, that the one of them not in a suit of armor was serving as defense, but they needed to cover each other's backs, and Tony was easier to immobilize when on ground.

Plus it was working; they were slowly but steadily moving forward through the mob of enemies. Thankfully, Steve's body went through the motions effortlessly, parrying weapons and knocking back their attackers in a stream so that they could be blasted apart by Tony. But no matter how many they downed, the aliens and beasts were ceaseless.

Steve was forced to duck as one of the aliens did a truly brainless move, jumping and attempting to land on him from above. The tip of his spear caught on Steve's shield, and Steve took advantage on his strength as he rose again, wrenching the shield back and sending the body soaring over the edge of the cliff behind them a dozen feet away.

“Steve – ” Tony muttered.

“Don't.” Steve punctuated the word with a solid punch to the face of one of the braver aliens, who had come at him with some sort of mace.

“Think of what he has,” Tony tried again. “We're dancing in the palm of his hand, right now.”

“Our alternative isn't an option,” Steve replied stiffly. Ebony Maw had told them he would break them, and Steve assumed that Tony would last longer. He'd assumed a lot of things about Tony Stark only to be proven wrong.

“I'm not saying we surrender!” Tony snapped. “We need to retreat, regroup somehow; I don't even know if these things are real, or if it's just a mind game.”

“Anything can become reality if you put your mind to it.”

“Of course you can wring something inspiring out of that – shit!”

“Tony!” Steve swung his shield at the oncoming attackers and heard three successive crunches as they were struck against its edge.

“Get this thing off me!”

Steve spun around, stepping in a quarter circle around Tony, and his eyes widened. Clamped around Tony's helmet was the same alien he had just thrown off the cliff mere moments prior. It seemed to be struggling with holding on though, and not just because Tony was trying to eject it, angling his repulsors to shoot at it. None of the blasts made an effect, though – as soon as they were shot off, the alien dodged with a smart twist or miniscule dodge. It shouldn't have been possible to perform the movements while clinging onto the armor at the same time, and it dawned on Steve that was because it wasn't.

The alien had been thrown off the cliff but was back here. The alien should have been long blasted full of repulsor holes, and Steve's throat tightened as the true meaning of the sentiment Tony had voiced and they had both felt surged through him.

Steve bounded forward, letting desperation force movement into his legs as he slammed the shield into the alien. When the enemy was pulled off of Tony this time, the helmet it had been attempting to yank off came with it with a resounding screech. A surge of panic seized Steve as he smashed his shield into its face and picked up the helmet. He looked inside it, heart pounding as his mind told himself over and over again and again how it was empty, thank god –

Tony was backing up, shooting repulsor blasts left and right. Steve could feel the sting of how he had bitten his lip seconds prior as he glanced him over. He reminded himself again that Tony's head was still attached to his body. The force that could have made that terrible screech could have easily – he had seen it before with too many – Steve was pushed back by Tony, who had sacrificed one of his shooting gauntlets to place it over Steve's chest and shove him back. A strike with a lance just barely missed his neck; while Steve had been contemplating Tony's near death, he had been a hair's breadth away from his own.

Their progress was rendered useless in that blink of a desperate moment; they stood only a few feet away from the cliff's edge now. The monsters didn't attempt to advance now, their blades and teeth bared at Steve and Tony. Their bodies were poised to strike, but they made no motion at attack.

“You managed to acquire two of the Infinity Gems, but I cannot fathom how, with the performance you just put on.” One of the aliens to the far right of them spoke, and Steve resisted the urge to jump. Of course, he realized as a fog was lifted before his vision, and felt at odds that he had not realized it in the first place – all of these aliens, long and spindly, were Ebony Maw, or projections from him. So his voice could come through any of them. Like Doom Bots, except mired in reality, or the reality of a deliberate mind trick. There was a difference, Steve knew, but right now, he couldn't tell what it was.

“For such a smart guy, you don't know much about me,” Tony said, and added a shaky laugh. “If you did, instead of going for my head, you knew you should have gone for – ” he tapped on his chest at the glowing reactor – “this.” With those words, he took a few steps back and tipped over as if in slow motion. Steve didn't even have the time to shout.

“Get them.” Ebony Maw's voice was filled with a deathly fury.

It took that for Steve to realize that falling didn't mean much when you were Iron Man. The mob of enemies surged forward. Steve backed up to the edge of the cliff, waiting for Tony's signal to jump. It didn't come.

 _C'mon, Stark_ , Steve called in his mind. _We have to get out of here._ He batted an axe away and knocked the weapon away with his other arm, only for the alien to cry out in rage and barrel head-first into him. Steve stumbled backwards, and it wasn't until he didn't feel the ground underneath him that he realized what happened.

He was in free-fall, and the rush to his head made the rest of him feel weightless. He let out a grunt as he flung the alien who had fallen with him backwards with a flip, but that meant he was falling head-first now. Steve twisted his position so the shield was beneath him and curled up his body to brace of the impact.

His fall was jarred, and Steve was hit with a lurch of vertigo as he rose sharply, feeling like his brain had been knocked back and forth like a punching bag.

“Were you waiting for that to happen?” Steve barked. “There was no point in waiting for me to fall on my own to stage your catch!”

“Sorry. That wasn't intentional. Too caught up in being badass that I forgot I could fly for a second.” Tony's laugh was thin and nervous, and Steve shot his head around at how raw the sound was. His eyes widened at Tony's pale face – right, the Iron Man helmet was still up on the cliff. As hard as it was sometimes to believe, Tony was non-powered, and falls from a great height could blank out even the most level-headed mind. But it was Tony, wasn't he was used to near-death experiences anyway, so –

“A little smoother on the pick-up next time, then, Stark,” Steve said with a soft, small gasp as he leaned into Tony. “Faster wouldn't be so bad, either.” He tucked his arm around Tony's shoulders and Tony hefted him up higher up his side.

“Don't joke to disseminate how utterly screwed we are right now, Cap. Not really in the mood for anything besides getting our asses out of here.”

“But where?” Steve asked. They were supposedly trapped by the Mind Gem – was there anywhere that they could go outside the confines of someone else's thoughts?

“Was hoping you'd have more ideas.” They rose above the cliff they had just fallen off, but there was no longer any sign of any other beings around. The sight maybe should been a relief, but it made Steve's wariness rise sharply by confirming how untrustworthy their own perceptions had become.

Tony set him down. Steve had to put effort into the steps he took, his knees feeling like they wouldn't properly hold him up. He walked back to the edge of the cliff to peer down. It looked exactly the same as it had the first time they had done this, but all that did was make his gut twist into itself even more.

“You're real, right?” Tony interrupted, and Steve spun on his heel. He opened his mouth, ready to reply, and paused for a split second as he wondered how it was that Tony was the one variable he hadn't doubted after learning of this place they were trapped in.

“Of course I am,” he replied.

“I can't even quiz you to make sure, not when the grown-up, evil E.T. has access to everything in my head.” Tony tilted his head with a cheeky grin. “Hopefully I've made him regret what he saw.”

Steve diverted his gaze from the warmth of that smile, shifting from one foot to the other as his body ran its gamut of cold to hot back to cold again. This could be Ebony Maw's sun to his north wind, and Steve didn't know how to take that idea. He shook his head. There was no use in denying that he'd rather have the relationship he had with Tony yesterday than the one they shared today.

But did he really? Knowing what he knew now, he couldn't say things like that. But what if he had no recollection? Steve bit his lip and considered the impracticalities of punching oneself in the face.

He had been – Steve didn't consider himself a happy man. He had always lost too much, especially after Sharon and Ia – after Dimension Z. But he had felt comfortable and at ease and _right_ with Avengers World that might have taken months, years to reach without them. Damn Tony, for taking that away from him. No, he couldn't even think of it like that. Tony had purposefully placed a ticking time bomb in his hands that night Steve had woken from the first of his nightmares. The night after, unknown to him when Tony had entrusted him with his idea, they had learned of the end of everything and prevented it just that once.

Steve realized what was happening when he shook his head. Pure force had failed Ebony Maw, so he was trying to manipulate him in other ways. Steve had to admit to himself that although he was surely in control, wasn't compromised – there would be no reason to have him taken out of commission – at the moment, he wasn't as steady a Captain America as he could have been. All the more reason to steel himself against the mind games. Focus on the goal. It would not become unattainable, not as long as Steve was the one who had to achieve it.

“You're not going to ask me the same question?” Tony finally asked, breaking the silence.

“If I can't trust my instincts,” Steve spoke gruffly and shrugged, “then I don't have reason to trust in anything else.” He looked to the side, trying to think of a more Tony-way to phrase it. “You're an engineer, so you'd understand. It's not a matter of theory, but of application. You might know the physics and biology and chemistry of what goes on inside someone's head, but you'll never know what those things mean to them.”

Tony stared at him in some type of disbelief. “So you're saying that our _feelings_ are the key to this?”

“What I'm saying is that when we're dealing with aliens and Infinity Gems and Death, it might be a good idea to remind ourselves of our humanity.”

Tony raised an eloquent eyebrow. “Says the super human.”

“Peak human.”

Steve's words startled a laugh out of Tony. “Never mind,” Tony shook his head and grinned, “no one that self-assured and damned stubborn could have been invented as a figment of my imagination by an alien whose entire life's work appears to be centered around manipulating others.”

“If that's cleared up,” Steve leaned over and picked up the helmet lying on its side on the ground and tossed it over to Tony, “we have to stick together.”

“We're light years away and, well,” Tony shrugged as he shook dirt out of the helmet before placing it over his head, the voice filters distorting the rest of his words – “only a few weeks or so ahead...I think. Can't be sure of anything here. But I'd hope you'd try to stick with me of all people out here.”

Tony would hope. Steve would hope, too.

“So, what do you think his next move will be?” Tony asked this time.

“If I told you, then I'd be telling him,” Steve pointed out. Tony looked toward him in the way that Steve knew there was a deep frown behind the faceplate.

“Having the Hulk around right about now sounds just about right. Primal urges, no higher-order thinking. All about feeling. Maybe it'd be nice to turn off just about all of our minds right now. Temporarily, of course. I don't have the advantage of the strength to powerhouse through armies of bug aliens.”

Steve paused as his own mind – his ally turned traitor in this place – ran through Tony's words. Something nagged at him, and it sounded suspiciously like Hank McCoy's voice.

“It's all in our minds,” Steve said blankly.

“We know that, it's why we're in this mess.”

“You're real,” Steve interrupted, “and I'm real. Everything else around us, everything else that happened, isn't. From the moment we arrived here.”

The silence between them was pointed, and Steve could tell the exact moment Tony understood. “Because what happened was all in our minds, not in our bodies,” Tony finished for him. “Which means I can do – this.”

With that, they were yanked away from the cliff, away from this alien world that wasn't so alien after all, and they slammed back down on solid metal. Steve's head spun with the vertigo, like his body had just been wrenched through a wringer, even though he knew, at the back of his mind, that it was his mind that had traveled those light years of distance and not his body.

No, Steve realized, Tony had moved them a foot to the side of where they had landed initially. In the time it took them to make those two realizations, his being was transported again, this time a few inches back. He looked to his side to Tony, the gem in his hand glowing from its recent usage.

“If you can't properly pin us down,” two-point-three inches north-north-west, “then you can't get into our heads,” one-point-six feet south-east, “even with the Mind Gem, can you?” Four-point-five inches east, and Steve blinked as his mind was fed with their spatial dislocations every time the Space Gem activated. It hadn't been like this before, when he had traveled with Tony.

“I asked it to do this for us,” Tony told him, “just to keep us grounded and not turn our minds to mush.” Four-point-zero-one inches west.

Tony was right – as long as Steve was perfectly aware of where his body was going, he could keep his mind clear and prepared for each surge across the cockpit of the space ship.

“Damn you.” Ebony Maw's fist closed over the Mind Gem, and Steve could see its bright pulsing as he tried to force himself into their minds again, but every time Steve felt a haze grow over him, Tony shot them across the room again. “You think you can continue to play this game of keep-away? The moment you pause for longer than a few seconds, I win. Is this your attempt at trying to escape the inevitable?”

“Thing is, we don't have to pause for longer than a few seconds to do this – ”

Fifty-point-seven inches north-north-east, and Tony smashed his armored fist into Ebony Maw's face. Steve saw his chance.

“Stark!” The Space Gem activated and sent Steve's arm the few inches further it needed to swipe the Mind Gem from Ebony Maw's grip, loosened by the force of punch and currently unable to seize Steve's mind again.

Ebony Maw flew backwards and skidded across the floor from the punch. Steve and Tony didn't make use of their Infinity Gems this time, sidling to loom over him instead. Ebony Maw slitted his eyes and glared at him, and his hand shot out but Steve was moved three-point-two inches to the left. That usage had been unnecessary, Steve wanted to tell Tony; he could have dodged it easily on his own.

Tony held his hand out, then closed his gauntlet over the just-activated Space Gem, and Ebony Maw slammed into the ground, flattened out. “I'd like to see you try to use your mind games to get out of a physically impossible situation.” Tony tilted his head. “You couldn't actually take the gems from us physically, not while you were occupied poking through our minds. So you _told_ us we were defeated and didn't have the gems any more. We saw through that.”

“The reason why you did it is,” Steve knelt down to meet Ebony Maw's eyes in challenge, “if you broke us, then we would have been weak enough so that you didn't have to spend all your time trying to restrain us. You could have walked over and plucked it right from our fingers.”

“ _I'm in regular contact with telepaths,_ ” Hank had said at their meeting. “Y _ou two don't have mental shielding, nor do I believe it would be effective against telepathic power beyond what one could envision. But keep in mind_ ,” Hank chuckled at his own joke, “ _if a telepath can't get a good hold on you in some sense of physicality that makes sense for them, their powers end up as effective as a comb on me.”_

“I'm flattered, though. This says a lot about our wills, although we've both already gone through that song and dance. Time's run out for you, you're gotten yourself trapped in a little void, and as it turns out, _we_ are the professionals at this mind-reading business.” Tony grinned, bright and triumphant. Steve's lips quirked up in spite of himself.

* * *

Three down, three to go. Six hours, fourteen minutes left.

“Time and space are natural complements,” Stephen had noted. He rested his chin on his hand in contemplation as Hank accepted the Mind Gem from Tony. “Just as the Soul Gem and Mind Gem also go with each other.”

“You think the next Infinity Gem we'll search out will be the Soul Gem, then.” Steve glanced from his own Time Gem to the Mind Gem clutched in Hank's paws.

“So Hank, want to tag along?” Tony asked with a feigned wink.

Hank rolled the gem around in his fingers. “Three-versus-one are very good odds, even though Infinity Gems are wily things. If you would so kindly as to allow me to accompany you then, gentlemen.” His grin showed off his pointed fangs.

That exchange was what had brought them here, in a barren, dead land a dimension and many millenia away, without Hank McCoy in two.

“We lost Beast,” Tony said, spinning around. It looked a bit ridiculous with the armor, but it didn't matter if panic didn't spare dignity. “How the hell did we lose Beast?”

“Calm down.” Steve didn't know if he was telling it to Tony or to himself. “If Beast isn't here, we can't be confident of which Infinity Gem we've come after.” Steve turned his head to try to make sense of some type of landmark through the fog, but the ground, though rough, didn't reveal any outcroppings of rock to mark any clues. “It could be the Reality Gem making things this way – making us believe we're separate from him.” The only reassurance he could muster with Hank missing in action was to know he and Tony had successfully overcome and acquired an Infinity Gem once before, even with the odds arguably against them. “Let's get a bearing on our surroundings fir – ” Steve's body jolted as something pricked into his mind.

_Steve? Tony? Come in!_

“Hank? Where is your location? What's your status?” No response came, and Steve's heartbeat pounded in his ears.

 _They're not responding, Stephen. They – understood. Gentlemen, the nature of the Mind Gem dictates you should be able to hear me, even if you cannot reply in turn. The year is: 2013, date November 29_ _th_ _, hour 0934, approximately...two minutes after activation of the Time and Space Gems. Steve, Tony – I didn't go with you. Hmm. Well, I definitely felt a pull, but then I, well, snapped back to the present._

“That shouldn't have – ” Tony's voice was cut off by Hank's.

_So, it's more accurate to say I couldn't go with you. This is a bit...I can't ascertain what exactly occurred. The Infinity Gems were made to be used together, but it...the best way to describe it is to say the Time and Space Gems rejected me. I'd have more to say on that matter, but the thing to focus on here is that you two managed to make it through, so unfortunately, we must leave the rest of this endeavor up to you two. It's a one-way channel, so we can't be of much help to you. However, you were able to obtain the Mind Gem earlier, so I urge you not to fret. When you are able to come back, aim for 0940 hours. It's...rather unfair that we merely have to wait a few minutes compared to what you two must go through, but I would be the one to say that life doesn't treat everyone fairly, does it? Good luck._

Steve instinctively put up two fingers to the earpiece in his cowl, but the transmission – the telepathic message – cut out.

“Right,” Tony muttered after a brief silence. “Fool me once, fool me twice? Hank might be captured already and the holder of the Reality Gem could have the Mind Gem right about now.” He took a few steps forward, then whirled around to face Steve. His helmet turned away at an angle, and Steve heard an annoyed hiss.

“You're kidding me,” Tony said, voice strained. “My sensors aren't working.”

“Could anything besides the Reality Gem do that?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I've had this exact sort of interference before. It's usually one thing, and that's – ” Tony paused, and the meaningful, familiar weight of his silence made Steve turn on his heel while backing up until he stood by Tony.

These monsters – because that's what they certainly were, none of them humanoid in shape – didn't look like aliens. Their black forms with sharp points and fiery eyes looked more like products of –

“Magic,” Tony confirmed. “Not a much better way to get ambushed than mind games.” He took the moment to fire off a quick repulsor blast as Steve pulled his arm back and flung his shield forward. The preemptive strike wasn't much of one, for the monsters had already launched themselves forward straight into the attacks.

The shield bounded off two of them, whose howls of pain made Steve's ears ring. But that wasn't the most surprising part of it. When the shield slammed off their heads, the creatures fell to the floor, and by the time Steve had caught his shield again, their bodies had dissipated into black fog soon dispersed throughout the air.

“What in the – ” Tony grumbled. Steve saw a monster, a gaping hole in its head from a repulsor blast, start smoking thickly from the space. It took only a few seconds for there to be no trace left behind of the creature.

“If it really is the Reality Gem and the holder wanted to scare us, they should have tried a little harder!” Steve swept the legs out from under one of the monsters. One of its claws snagged on his arm as it fell to the ground. His uniform covered his skin, but one of the nails pricked him rather than just dragging harmlessly across the protective material. Not as formidable as could be imagined by anyone with any sort of creativity, but the pain these demons inflicted was certainly real. Steve let himself be dragged down with the creature and slammed his shield right into its teeth with a bone-rending crunch. When he tumbled to the ground and rolled, he jerked to a pause as he faced the dirt.

– _Tears dotted the ground in front of him –_

“Steve! You all right?”

“I'm fine!” Steve spun around and kicked with both his feet into the chest of another of the monsters. He followed through with a punch as the monster went down before landing on his feet.

“What the hell are these things?” Tony grunted as he wrung one of the monsters over his shoulder, sending it flying.

“They go down with force.” Steve caught his shield after it had knocked one of the creatures back into the body of another. “That's about as much as we need to know.”

Steve blocked the clash of the next claw strike with his shield and hopped back. Not far enough, it turned out, because the creature did something that should have been impossible. The arm that had rebounded off of the shield snapped back and forward. Steve has already surmised the reach of these enemies after the first handful, adjusting his estimates accordingly based purely on sight. But the motion of the arm reached two feet longer than it had any right to, and Steve's body backed up again on instinct at its rush. The nails dug into the small of his back, and he heard Tony blast a repulsor in their direction. Steve's vision dotted with black for a split second.

Something flew through the air and slammed into the chest of the monster holding him before the repulsor blast could reach it. The monster released its talons, spun back by the force. Steve would have followed the motion with his eyes, but it was such a familiar sight in battle that his body moved as it naturally did, slamming the shield between the eyes of another monster. Tony did the same, blasting another monster in the chest and flying sideways, just out of their enemies' reach and shooting off repulsors at them.

“Take cover, Avengers!” Thor boomed. “And have at me, foul cretins!” He stomped his foot on the ground once, and the earth shook. Now that threw Steve off-balance. So used was he to battling alongside Thor that he intimately knew the awesome power that the god held. The energy that charged through the air was more powerful and boding than he had ever experienced.

Mjolnir hit the ground, and lightning surged through the ground and cracked through the air, arcing around Steve's feet and Tony's armor. Instead, it took hold of each of the monsters, who shuddered, paralyzed by the shock that ran through them. Within moments, the wisps that had once been their corpses dissipated into thin air.

It was then that Thor turned and gazed toward them. It was now that his appearance took Steve by surprise, and he took an aborted step back. This was Thor, but it wasn't _their_ Thor. The figure reminded him more of Odin than of Thor. An eyepatch covered his left eye, and once golden hair was now a faded, pale yellow. Mjolnir was held in one of his hands, but in the other the Odinsword gleamed. This was no prince of Asgard, Steve realized with a start, but the king himself.

“Thor?” Tony asked in disbelief, walking toward him and raising one hand slowly. “Is that you?”

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” Steve told Thor, calming down slightly as his thoughts caught up to the man who stood in his sight. The Time Gem had made it known to them they were thousands of years in the future – even Asgardians weren't immune to the effects of aging, Thor had told him once – the great wheel of time just turned that much slower for them. So, Thor's appearance, Steve could make sense of. But the rest of this place –

Thor studied him first, and then Tony. His brows furrowed with puzzlement at first at the sight of the armor, but then he relaxed. “Of course, this color phase,” he addressed to Tony. His eyes shone with wry amusement, but what Steve could notice was the slight tenseness in him, the disbelief. “That would place you at...the second decade of the second millennium of the human era. That is, if my eyes do not fail me...and it is truly you two, Steven Rogers and Anthony Stark. If it is, then I cannot imagine your relief could be any greater than mine.” Thor smiled then, and in there, Steve could see his familiar, trusted ally and brother.

“It really is you!” Tony exclaimed as he lifted up his faceplate. He flashed a grin at Thor and clapped a hand on his back. It was decidedly a Thor gesture, but Tony must have also picked up on Thor's wariness. It was just like Tony to try anything to cheer his friends – Steve stopped himself. Maybe only if those friends were useful to Tony himself.

Tony raked his eyes over Thor. “But if you're here, and you're wearing that...and holding those...don't tell me you went out on a demon hunt on your own. Don't you have your own Warriors Four or – hell, even a son or daughter to do that for you?”

Thor averted his gaze to the emptiness surrounding them. “I regret that I cannot,” he admitted after a silence. “This is no hunt. This is Asgard, friends, or what is left of her.”

Steve followed Thor's melancholy gaze over the landscape. He strained his eyes, trying to find a remnant of the Asgard he knew. There were no buildings gleaming gold and silver, no awe-inspiring architecture or regal sculpturing, no sense of time or scale to make even Steve feel the ephemerality of mortality. The Time Gem had assured Steve that all things come to an end, but there were certain places and certain ideas that Steve didn't want to bear witness to the collapse of with his own eyes. In this place, not even a scrap of rubble remained of the great kingdom.

“You're – certain?” Steve's words made Thor close his eyes. When he reopened them to look straight at Steve, Steve truly understood the distance time had carved between them.

“This may be unbelievable to your eyes now,' he said, “but to me, it is the Asgard that once was – the one that you know – that is so distant to be a dream.” The careful, chosen solemnity of Thor's words made Steve feel terribly small.

“What happened? Were we too late?” Tony blurted. “We can go back, believe me, we can change this world – ” Part of Steve wanted to snap at Tony, that just because they used the gems freely in order to _save the universe_ , they couldn't just – it wasn't the same as using them to help their friend. Was it?

“Do not worry yourself,” Thor interrupted. “This is the fate of Asgard, five thousand years into the future. It was inevitable.”

“Inevitable that you're left alone?” Tony demanded, and from the way Thor's lip curled, it was not his topic of choice.

“Can you tell us more about those creatures we fought?” Steve prompted. “Were they the reason that Asgard ended up like..this?”

“They are not,” Thor said. “These creatures are an anomaly in the fate of Asgard. They are called varljof, who roam in search of other beings with souls. This is the reason they ambushed you.”

“Souls? Why souls?” Tony asked.

“Their food source,” Thor nodded. “You saw what happened when they were vanquished – without souls, they will wither away into ashes. But because they are putrid and reviled, they usually are found in the aftermath of a war zone, when souls have nearly been severed from their bodies. It is normally a sacred ritual for a valkyrie to bring those souls to hallowed Valhalla, but – ” Thor's face darkened. “The battle maidens perished long ago.”

“You told us yourself, though,” Steve said, “that this is what remains of Asgard. Why are these valrjof around here, then? Are there souls besides – ” _you_?

“The sightings of them used to be far and few-between,” Thor said. “Primarily because of the lack of sustenance, or at least – the lack of sustenance they can overpower.” He clenched his fist. “This land was quiet for a long while. They have disturbed its silence only in recent times, when they have begun to swarm in such numbers.”

“So, why are these hordes roaming around here now?” Tony added. “From what I could see, you're the only one here, and I don't think even time can wear you down enough to be easy prey.”

“It's not me they're after. If I have surmised the circumstances correctly, it's not this brazen old man that you two are after either.” Thor gazed upon them, and the aged nostalgia in his expression dislodged something in Steve's chest.

“Thor,” Tony said quietly, “it's true that we didn't come looking for you, but we have all the time in the world.” Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony, and Tony shrugged. Steve couldn't find it in himself to be angry at Tony's priorities, no matter if he himself wasn't included – Steve realized what he was doing and tore his eyes away from Tony. Thor looked at him curiously.

Steve could not become someone who did not extend to even just one more person in need, no matter the reason. “Is there really nothing we can do for you?” he asked abruptly.

“Friends.” Thor nodded to both of them. “Shield brothers. Do not gaze upon me as if you have not given your part in the friendship we have forged. I will not allow you to tarnish the memory of all we have shared. Just by fighting side-by-side with me once more, you have already done more than this old and mightless king is worthy of. Even my younger self, the brash Avenger, received more from you than I did even at the height of glory of Asgard, whence I sat at its throne.” His lowered his chin to his chest, eyes closed, and the twitch of emotions on his face told them just as much as Thor's words had. “I cannot join you,” Thor looked up, “in your fight beyond this place, but I can offer you more.”

Steve was reluctant to drop the topic, but Thor's expression told him it wasn't worth pressing the matter again. “Anything you would give us is more than enough,” he said.

Thor looked thoughtful. “From what I can gather, what you two are after are the same as the varljof. I will reveal it to you, but prepare yourself for another battle before I do so. The first few times, before I learned what unsealing my protection over it would do, hordes many dozens of times larger than the one we fought would chase after it.”

“We're Avengers,” Steve said, and that statement made the corners of Thor's eyes crinkle in amusement. “There's no time we're not ready for another battle.”

“It doesn't sound like you think we would lose, either,” Tony commented wryly.

“Of course not,” Thor said with a scoff. “I defeated these monsters on my own – now that I have aid, it will go by even quicker than the half-dozen hours it took before.”

Hours. Thor's words shouldn't have lit a spark in Steve. But he kicked out his legs, hefted his shield on his arm, and felt his energy gearing up. It was high time he could take his frustrations out and hurt things he was supposed to, rather than ones he wanted to.

“Six? That's nothing,” Tony laughed. Steve nodded in agreement.

“I do not doubt your confidence, considering the two who are proclaiming it.” Thor smiled as he reached into some pocket beneath his armor and pulled a small, round object out. It was a pale, lightless green. Thor held his hand over it for a long, steady moment, flexing his fingers periodically. Suddenly, he jerked his hand away from it. Like it had been undraped, the light erupted in sparked dazzles, and Steve could feel the Time Gem in his pocket grow warm in response.

“The Soul Gem,” Steve murmured. They could have expected as much, but it was still almost unbelievable each time they were faced with another Infinity Gem.

“I have hidden it since I first came upon it,” Thor said. “Its nature allows me to keep it hidden if I must, since all who have come in search of it possess some semblance of being or soul. Which I suppose means this universe has not fallen as far as I thought it would have.” He gazed upon it with a wisp of wistfulness written upon his face. Steve shared a quick glance with Tony.

“I have wondered why I kept it, at times,” Thor continued. “In this place, there are no souls worthy of being peered upon, and it has done nothing but bring trouble to me. And I would like to think that there is nothing that could tempt and corrupt the king of Asgard with its power.” A small smirk came to Thor's lips at the admittance. “But if taking this aids you in your quest, then the years spent of protection have been worth it.”

“Years?” Tony asked, forceful. “I thought you said it only showed up recently.”

“We have very different perceptions of time, Iron Man.” Thor smiled as he unsheathed the Odinsword. Steve spun around, and Thor's words were proven by the mass of varljof that were endless as far as the eye could see. That was as fine a number where Steve was concerned.

The varljof stormed in waves, and no matter how many Steve crushed, the hordes he plowed through, more came. Their deaths couldn't even be measured, as they disappeared seconds after defeat with a dying howl. Steve could have killed hundreds, thousands, his body responding to his needs like clockwork, and he wouldn't know. Thor and Tony flanked him, and they had yet to yield their ground.

Maybe it was better not to think, though. Tony's earlier words echoed in Steve's mind.

_Maybe it'd be nice to turn off just about all of our minds right now._

Steve didn't have to think about the universe's collapse. He didn't have to think that if he and Tony failed, something unthinkable would occur, no matter which option the Illuminati chose. He didn't have to think about what would come after the Infinity Gauntlet.

(He didn't have to think about the person he had tried to throw out of his heart through his words, but couldn't through his actions. He didn't have to question how he could possibly fight side-by-side with someone who he didn't even know had his back or not. He didn't have to think about what that meant for him, who was supposed to be above emotional compromise in the face of what was right.)

No, all Steve had to do was smash his shield through the varljof, or toss it at the exact timing that Thor threw Mjolnir so that the respective arcs of their throws would clear the field in front of them, or stand in position so that he could reflect Tony's repulsor blast to down the enemy in one clean swoop.

The Time Gem was a low burn in Steve's pocket, a reminder of its power. But the heat wasn't overwhelming, and that was all Steve needed to know they weren't in any real danger. Like Thor had foretold, it was a battle of attrition.

But they had been prepared for it. Really, the three of them were always prepared to fight until the bitter end no matter the situation. Their end, if it came, would come against an entire universe – not against the petty thieves of souls.

At the end, hours later, when Steve could finally see the bleak landscape behind the forms of the enemy, he readied himself for a final charge. Though his body still moved in pitch-perfect form, he could feel the beginnings of a creak in his joints.

“Avengers!” Thor shouted. “If we time it correctly, then we can finish the rest of our foes off now. I'll need your aid, Steve.”

“Tell me where I need to go.” Steve kicked the face of one of the varljof in.

Thor pointed up into the air with the Odinsword. Steve didn't need any more cues, tossing his shield with all his might into the air. Thor spun Mjolnir around once, twice, and flew up into the sky after it. Mjolnir crashed into the shield with a loud clang that reverberated across the field, but the shield's trajectory wasn't interrupted. The Odinsword in Thor's other hand glowed as he held it aloft, its power holding the shield steady in place. Thor swung Mjolnir again into the shield, and blue-white sparks shot across the field.

Steve ducked under one of Tony's repulsor blasts aimed toward a monster behind him and bounded toward Tony.

“We have to take cover!”

“Then the safest spot is behind the barrel of the gun,” Tony said, and in an instant had Steve by the waist. Steve jumped on instinct, placing his right foot over the armored boot. When they flew up, one of the varljof grabbed onto Steve's ankle, and Steve kicked at it with his other leg. It climbed up Steve's leg only to eat a faceful of repulsor.

The varljof made a collective hissing noise that rattled Steve's mind. Several of them began to float up into the sky after them. Not soon enough for them, for when Thor saw Steve and Tony safely behind him, he raised Mjolnir to the sky.

A lightning bolt cracked down from the sky and hit the white star on the shield like a bullseye. Steve saw the Odinsword in Thor's hand jerk with the impact, but Thor remained steady. With his other arm, he swung back and smashed Mjolnir into the edge of the disc, and with a flick of the wrist holding the Odinsword, the shield began to spin wildly.

Sparks flew everywhere, and there were howls of pain as they rained upon the varljof. Some of them stumbled away, and Tony held out his hand to pick off the stragglers with a few well-aimed blasts. Others, enraged at the onslaught, launched themselves up, but their numbers were thinned enough that Thor's attack knocked them back in waves unable to advance against them. Thor called down more lightning bolts, and Steve had to slit his eyes against the heat and blinding light of the electric strikes against the shield..

Within moments, the last of the varljof fell. Thor caught Steve's eyes, and another bolt arced into the shield to rain a torrent of sparks over the ground once more. Steve found himself grinning.

“You turned a sniper rifle into a shotgun,” Tony mused. “Color the weapons expert impressed, old man.” He drifted back to the ground and set Steve down as he spoke. So, he still remained mindful of Steve's preference for solid ground (before his autonomy, Steve thought darkly, and when did anything Tony do manage to ruin Steve's mood?).

“You would learn to respect your elders, Iron Man,” Thor chided with little mirth. “Then again, you didn't do that even back when I merely had centuries on you. Watch yourselves, now. I will release the Odinsword's hold on the Captain's shield now. The effects of my lightning are not gone, so I wouldn't catch it unless you were in the mood for quite the shock.”

With a snap, Thor yanked the sword back and the shield arced around, continuing its trajectory from when Steve had tossed it before. Steve watched as the shield, free from the lightning Thor had imbued through the vibranium, fly back in their direction. Like Thor said, sparks still danced around the shield, and Steve stepped out of the way, intending to let the ground take the force of the blow. He did a cursory glance over his teammates, first Thor, and then –

“Iron Man!” Thor propelled himself forward, and Steve whirled around just in time to see Tony flying toward the charged shield. One of his arms extended toward it, and time slowed. Steve felt himself running before he realized it, and he pushed his body further and faster than it could, and the Time Gem burned into his skin.

With a heart-stopping smash, the shield struck Tony in the chest, slamming the armor into the ground. Bursts of lightning seized the armor, and something in Steve's chest stopped. It was hard to breathe as he collapsed to his knees next to the armor.

“Tony!” Steve reached out to cover the RT node with his hand before the common sense not to touch something that was just electrocuted told him to hold back.

With a loud whir, the armor jolted in place. Steve snapped his hand back, and felt his heart leap. He had the desperate urge to shake Tony, force him into movement as he felt Thor kneel down beside him.

“By the gods...” Thor muttered in disbelief. The ebbing glow of the Soul Gem was in Steve's periphery, but it was a distant vision, dwarfed by the sleek, unmoving black and gold armor before him.

Miraculously, Steve heard a soft click, and the faceplate lifted up. Steve couldn't find his voice as he stared at Tony, who blinked back up at him. Their eyes held for a long, silent moment, something seizing in Steve's throat.

“What was that, Stark!?” Steve finally had the wherewithal to shout.

“I'm not dead.” Tony's pupils were wide and dilated.

“You should be,” Thor said, shaking his head in blank shock. “That blow would have incapacitated me, and as far as I'm aware, you're still human.”

Tony huffed. “Death doesn't seem to want me yet.” Steve glared at him, but Tony just grinned wryly, completely unaware of the meaning behind his careless words. “Or maybe this armor's just that great.”

“Stop going on about the armor!” Steve gritted his teeth. “That was a dangerous, ill-advised, _idiotic_ stunt you pulled there. What the hell were you thinking!?”

“I – ” Tony's eyes shifted away as he sat up without even the slightest sign of exertion. It should have been impossible. From the way Tony's eyes widened, he realized that too. “Thor said it first – I'm still human. We've been going on this without a break for hours. Forgive a man for a bit of fatigue.”

Steve balled his hand into a fist. Tony was possibly the only person who knew just as well as Steve, Bucky, and Clint the exact weight and balance of his shield and could calculate its trajectory on the fly. There was no way he hadn't known where the shield would land, no matter how half-dead fatigue had left him. Maybe his heart could, but Tony's mind never would.

“That's no _excuse_ ,” Steve growled, and how did Tony not get it – never get it? Did Steve actually have to borrow Mjolnir to hammer it through Tony's thick skull? “You could have _died_. First you're distracted with the Mind Gem, and now this? We didn't come here for you to run into the first thing that could kill you!”

“Right.” Tony's eyes lingered on his before he looked away. “You still need the Space Gem, after all.”

“It's not – ” Steve stopped himself. It was the same gnawing wrongness he had felt when Death had offered him the option to let Tony die. Tony shouldn't, couldn't die. It was _wrong._ There was – Tony had to face retribution for his betrayal. He couldn't just have Steve kill him or sacrifice himself and think that was enough. “Never mind. You're not injured?”

“Doesn't seem like it,” Tony grunted as he got to his feet as Steve gaped at him. Thor seemed even more troubled as he took turns looking between the two of them.

“I'm not knocking on your awesome power, Thor.” Tony grinned at him, his smile too obviously plastered on. “This baby won't let anything happen to me.” He popped the Space Gem out of the compartment in his armor. True to form, it was glowing brightly, like it had just been activated. “I don't think even you can overpower one of these.”

“I'm well familiar with that,” Thor said, signaling the Soul Gem as he relaxed. Thor had accepted Tony's explanation without any protest, but Steve still felt something stir inside of him. Did Tony really know that the Space Gem would save him if he threw himself into danger? He certainly hadn't fought like he did. Nor should he – the cloak of invincibility the Infinity Gems cast over them seemed...unfair, somehow. The way to defeat an Infinity Gem wielder was with another Infinity Gem – Steve could recognize that in principle, but it didn't mean he had to acknowledge it when the fate of the universe hinged on their mission.

Tony cast his eyes over the landscape. “It's really over, then?” What was close to disappointment colored his voice. Steve could sympathize, turning his head to the side.

“Steve. Tony.” Thor's grave voice drew their attention to them. “Being the wielder of this gem and fighting alongside two such unrelenting, steadfast, powerful souls has not informed me of the exact nature of your quest, but it has told me of its pressing need. You do not need to take the time to explain your mission for me to understand its importance. Anything you need from me is yours.” With that, Thor raised his arm with the Soul Gem out in offering. Steve hesitated. Gauging his reaction, Steve finally reached out for it, and he could feel the steady, beating warmth of the Time Gem as his fingers closed in.

At the last instant, Thor turned his arm so that his hand, with the gem held in its palm, was in front of Tony. Tony looked at Steve, then at Thor in question.

Steve kept his face carefully blank and steady. One of them had to have it – it didn't matter that Thor offered it to Tony instead of him, even if – if Thor had the Soul Gem, he must also know how tenuous Steve and Tony's partnership could be.

Tony stepped forward and held his hand out to accept the gem, still glancing between Steve and Thor. When it dropped in his hand, the light that had shined so brightly when Thor held it died out with a small sputter.

“That's not ominous at all,” Tony joked, a strained edge to his voice. “People say I have no heart, too – maybe they were only slightly off.” He gasped suddenly as the gem glowed, and his voice sounded choked for a second before he shook his head. “That was...wow. Okay. Good thing you were the one in charge of this, Thor. Don't think any normal human should handle this for too long.”

“No one should handle it for too long.” Thor shook his head before taking a step towards Tony. “But that gem can change the course of the entire universe. No one should have to suffer loss like I have. Do you understand, Iron Man?”

When Tony raised the Space Gem next to the Soul Gem, the Soul Gem flickered, like it had a faulty power source.

“I understand, big guy.” Tony glanced out of the corner of his eye at Steve, watching him. Steve looked back at him, and Tony's eyes shot away. “I'll make sure of it.” Tony hesitated before speaking again. “I hate to pester, and it wasn't on purpose, but with the Soul Gem I can't really help it – are you sure that – ”

“I'm glad to see you two remain as stubborn as ever,” Thor chuckled. “Together, you've always been my reminders of what humanity can accomplish. Then, do me this one thing. Before you two leave, would you humor me a little?”

“Anything,” Steve told him.

“There was a certain battle cry,” and Thor smiled, and the haughtiness in his eyes, the sparkles dancing in that reflection, and there was no more doubt that, no matter how many years had passed, this was their Thor. “Hearing it once more would make me feel at the height of my youth again. In relative terms, of course,” he chuckled.

“Of course,” Steve closed his eyes and nodded.

“Will you do the honors, then, Captain?” Thor asked him, and there was something in his eyes that pricked at Steve's chest. Steve nodded again, his throat too tight to reply with words at the moment.

The three of them put their hands in the center of the circle. Tony first, because he was the first one to sign the charter, before Steve had been defrosted. Thor next, because he had been there too, when the Avengers had their first battle against his own brother. Then Steve, the last of the founders, granted as an honor even if he hadn't been there at the inception of the mightiest team and family he had ever known.

“Avengers assemble,” Steve shouted from the bottom of his heart, and then they were gone.

* * *

There were four hours, ten minutes, and two gems left – Power and Reality.

“I really don't know what someone with the Power Gem could do to stop us,” Tony said, “and maybe that's big-headed of me. But really, brute force?”

“The Power Gem is not just physical strength,” Stephen reminded him, and Tony let out an obligatory grunt. “While elements of mental manipulation are manifested in the Mind or Soul Gem, the Power Gem also grants one ability over energy manipulation. Not something you should be batting your eye at, especially not when you're the only two who can retrieve the Infinity Gems.”

They had tested it, trying to find what exactly had happened to Beast and the Mind Gem on their little Asgardian adventure. The Time and Space Gems would only activate together; even when Steve had been the one to hold the Mind Gem, the gem had been rejected. _There must be something anchoring the other gems to this time and this place after their arrival_ , Stephen had noted with a dark look on his face.

“Even so, Stark has a point,” Steve said. “I'm more concerned with what someone with the Reality Gem can do.”

The Reality Gem had powers that could be conceptualized, spoken of in general terms, but nothing concrete or truly understood. Altering reality itself – what did that really mean? To what degree? How true was a reality that could be changed through will alone? Judging by Tony's wariness, it appeared neither of them could shake off the battle with Ebony Maw, but the Reality Gem could be infinitely more dangerous. Steve preferred something he could hit to take down.

It spoke volumes to the state of affairs that fighting endless monstrous hordes alongside Thor had been the most at ease he had felt since the Time Gem had blinked into existence in front of him.

“You said you could only pinpoint one other Infinity Gem, regardless,” Reed said. “It's possible that the Reality Gem, due to its haphazard, reality-warping powers, can cloak itself, which could ensure that the one you can detect is the Power.”

“On the other hand, we've only been able to seek out a single Infinity Gem after every other one we've collected.” Beast rolled the Mind Gem between his fingers. “Only one pops up at a time, so we can't call it a theory without any holes.”

“Does it matter?” Namor said. “We can sit and twiddle our thumbs with an incursion only a few hours away, or the Avengers can get themselves together and act like real leaders.”

“Leaving the rest of you behind to sit and twiddle your thumbs anyway,” Tony countered, and Namor sneered at him while Steve felt a sick curdling in his stomach at the blatant lie. T'Challa's hand shot out to pull Tony away.

“It's a given an incursion would make us feel helpless, but I wouldn't expect that from our fellow brethren,” T'Challa said coolly. Did none of them want to admit what they were doing behind his back while Steve was standing there? Steve's breath came in short bursts. There was nothing to do other than prove them wrong with his own solution.

Tony brushed off T'Challa's hand and turned away, and Steve saw how pinched his expression was. Tony had been like that ever since they had left Asgard, or what had remained of it. He had always been the one Steve had counted on to have a cool head under fire. In fact, that could be one of the things that Steve considered a double-edged blade about him – that he could be so calm and blunt when it came to actual, living people and how they factored into any plans.

His thoughts always returned to this, and his thoughts always stung like an open cut, but Steve could reign it in better now, with time and with the presence of others – others that frankly should have been causing him the same hurt. But it was always Tony that he had remained hyper-aware of. It made perfect sense, he told himself. He hadn't built a world together with any of the other Illuminati. The other Illuminati hadn't given him a home at his most lost.

Damn it, usually he was better at focusing on the task at hand and not letting himself be distracted. Steve rubbed at the pocket of his pants, where the outline of the Time Gem brought a semblance of comfort. He hadn't looked at it at all when it had been in his possession before the word incursion remained universes away, but he had become startlingly dependent on it and the surety its warmth gave him in the ensuing chaos after the Builder War. When he had helped save the universe once, Steve tried assuring himself, so surely he could do it again. It didn't help.

“'The method you used to acquire the Mind Gem with the manipulation of space wouldn't work again for the Reality Gem,” Reed muttered, “because it warps reality itself, not your perception of it.”

Black Bolt shook his head before pointing to Steve, then to Tony. Steve grunted in agreement.

“That's not entirely true,” Steve nodded, and got a few raised eyebrows in return. “When Stark and I were under the Ebony Maw's illusion, before we had come to our senses, we still had each other as an anchor.” There was a pause as the Illuminati pondered the thought.

“Trust in each other, then,” Tony laughed. When he pulled his head up and looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye, his eyes were oddly glassy in a way that made Steve want to squirm.

– _Tony looking at him with an expression almost of pity, but his gaze was too far away and distant –_

“That's our plan of attack.” Tony shook his head as he muttered with a smile on his lips.

If it was a matter of trust leading to victory, they might as well have admitted defeat. Lay down their Infinity Gems without so much as a fight. The moment the idea crossed his mind, Steve wanted to gnash his teeth. His anger was more directed at himself than at anyone else.

“Captain.” Stephen's gaze was intense, as if he could peer into Steve's mind and knew exactly what thoughts ran through it. “We know how you must feel about us, but you must recognize that we don't want this method of collecting the Infinity Gems to fail any more than you do.”

“I had you all figured out at least that much,” Steve replied shortly.

“Less than four hours,” Tony interrupted. “Let's get a move on, Cap.”

Beast shifted from foot to foot. “Best of luck, you two. We will make use of the Mind and Soul Gem on our end to the best of their abilities.” What did that even mean? There was probably some way to make them useful in building their Worldkiller, probably, Steve's mind thought darkly.

“Luck?” Namor scoffed. “More like don't you dare fail.”

That much was obvious.

* * *

When the energy of the gems that surrounded him dissipated, Steve glanced around at his surroundings.

It didn't even take a few seconds to realize there wasn't much. The barren ground he stood on, with craters scattered from here to there. The bleakness of space and stars surrounding him, and the familiar blue planet he could see if he turned his head just this way. He was on the moon – Earth's moon even. Steve took another look around.

“Tony?” The call didn't echo in his own ears, not in this place. There came no reply.

Steve was wrong. The first course of action he should have taken, rather than surveying his environment, was making sure his allies had also come through safely.

But there was no sound in space, especially not without – Steve reached up to his own face and it met his helmet. So he did inexplicably have space gear, and his frown grew deeper as he made his way across the surface. He had to find Tony – that fact had been established as the most certain thing that would allow them to not be led astray on their mission. That was what their current partnership came back to in the end, he reminded himself again. Even if Steve could feel himself returning to old, comfortable habits around Tony, there was no reason to be scared of how easy it was to be around him. After all, it wasn't like they would have this after they were done.

Every few steps into his trek Steve would glance back over to the Earth. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in space before to see it from this view, but the sight of the planet never failed to take his breath away. His planet, his home, and now ground zero for the end of the universe. Steve shook his head and his thoughts out of mind. They would save it, and they would save the other Earths that housed other hims and the other people that they cherished and everyone else they didn't know but still had a duty to protect.

The Inhuman capital was still on the moon, wasn't it? The Time Gem wasn't telling Steve that he had been particularly misplaced far in time. Steve had no sense of direction, but maybe the kingdom was where Tony was waiting for him. Steve gnawed at his lip. It would be so easy for Tony to whisk himself away to safety with the Space Gem. Maybe he was already in comfort, housed as a honored guest of the royal Inhuman family, while Steve staggered his way around like a mole in broad daylight.

The Space Gem...Steve paused. With the Space Gem, Tony could easily detect the presence of another Infinity Gem and reunite them in less than an instant. But he didn't, he hadn't and Steve had not felt the presence of the Space Gem with his own gem – Steve stopped and clutched at his chest and the flare of heat that erupted inside of him. It became warm, overbearingly so, in this cold and empty place. Steve had the sudden, irrational fear that someone had found him – someone he had been hiding from.

Something suddenly compelled Steve to turn his head toward the Earth to his side. What he saw doused the heat in his chest and wrapped it in ice instead.

The blue Earth full of life, of hope and of home, was enveloped in a deep crimson. From here, hundreds of thousands of miles too far, he saw how the red circled around the circumference of the globe, like blood running through a groove. How was – the Time Gem told Steve they had barely been misplaced in time, but when Steve squeezed it, willing its light into his hand, it refused to tell Steve how far they had gone. Then it could have jumped them four hours into the future, when – but the time bubble – Steve began to run. It must have looked pathetic, with the slog of his sprint across the loose gravity of the moon, but Steve couldn't think about that at the moment. He threw his hand with the Time Gem out, urging its power out. _Go back, listen to me this time, go back, back back back_ _back back –_ the red of the oceans and of the land turned deeper, become an opaque, rich hue that made distinguishing between the earth and the oceans impossible.

It wasn't working, Steve realized distantly. The Time Gem's glow pierced through the darkness, but he remained in this place, on this moon, as Earth was pulled apart before his very eyes. He strangled the gem tight between his fingers, desperate to wring out even a thousandth of the power he knew he contained as panic clawed at his throat, his mind, and his heart. _Go back go back go back we can't let this –_

It felt like watching a movie, or maybe that was because that's what Steve wanted. For this to not be happening, no matter how real it looked and felt. Next to the red Earth, another planet blinked into sight. It was the same shape and size and color as their own, and Steve's shoulders shook as he shouted. His throat grew hoarse but no sound pierced the silence, his agony unrealized, though it tore at the inside of his throat.

The reds of the two Earths erupted into what appeared to be flames the closer and closer they moved, first licking at their surfaces, then engulfing the both of them. Tears stung at the corner of Steve's eyes, and spit dotted the glass of his helmet as he cried out futilely once more.

Steve dropped to his knees just as both of the Earths finally collapsed into each other, and he could feel himself being sucked into that black hole that would swallow everything in known existence.

 _Everything dies_ , and Steve Rogers was here, a helpless victim and witness to that pitiful, premature end.

* * *

Steve's eyes shot open. He blinked blearily up at the sky. Sky – he shot upright, and it was a testament to his exhaustion that his head grew dizzy from the blood rushing to it.

“Steve.”

“Tony,” Steve gasped, and there was the Iron Man armor next to him. The sight of Tony, of _life_ around Steve could have made him done...anything at that point, and he wouldn't be entirely sure what for.

The faceplate was down, so Steve couldn't gauge Tony's reaction. “How are you?” Tony's voice came out carefully.

“I'm fine.” Steve pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes.

“Let me guess – you had a nightmare too?”

“Maybe,” Steve said, willfully ignoring Tony's implication that he would be able to share in Steve's distress. Could he have understood what Steve had seen, either way? “It's not something I can't deal with.” Trembles still ran through Steve's body, and part of him wanted to bury his face into his knees. His nightmares before – it was Tony he had gone to, in the tower. It was Tony here, but he couldn't seek him out anymore. Steve didn't know what to make of the fact that the reminder made the nausea die down, only to replaced with a keen ache.

When Steve gathered himself enough to look around at his surroundings properly, there was far more to take in than on the mo – in his dream. Steve could have mistaken the place the Infinity Gems had taken him and Tony for Earth at first glance. But the forest that surrounded the clearing they were in was made up of trees and vines and bushes Steve had never seen the likes of. The fruit dangling from thick branches were an array of neon colors and appeared to glow, to boot. A creature that looked a cross between a pig and a dog flitted through the trees. It reminded Steve oddly of those cartoons that an almost embarrassingly substantial portion of the Avengers liked to watch, with the talking animals who could only parrot their own name.

“How long have I been out?”

“I just woke up myself a few minutes ago, so I couldn't tell you. I can't imagine this was a coincidence – we weren't both knocked out any of the other times we've done this.” The helmet tilted in question. “What I can tell you, though, is that we're about...two hundred and one thousand, seven hundred and sixty eight light years away from Necropolis.”

“And a year and a half into the future,” Steve said as he grasped around for the date the Time Gem provided him without difficulty this time.

“It's probably a good thing we haven't had to travel back to nab the gems so far,” Tony noted without any inflection. “Going to the future and changing events up there is one thing – we're just speeding up the natural flow of time. But the past is, well.” Tony stepped aside as Steve rose to his feet, and motioned around them. “Let's see if we can get any – whoa!”

“Stark!” Steve grabbed Tony's arm without thinking as the ground around them shook.

_You have to leave, before he comes back!_

“Wha – ” Tony pulled Steve to his feet and moved so that they stood nearly back to back, searching for the source of the voice. “Did you hear that?”

_I can't hold him!...Myself..._

“There's no reason for us to stay put. We need to move,” Steve said, and he felt Tony shift behind him in a form of agreement. “Now.”

Tony grabbed Steve's hand. With no further words exchanged, Steve turned around, fastening his arm around Tony's waist and adjusting his grip on his shield securely as Tony lifted off. Luckily they had begun their takeoff in the clearing, so Steve only had to squint his eyes against the rush of wind and not the branches and leaves of the masses of trees.

“The way the person spoke to us,” Tony said as he picked a direction and flew in an attempt to get them away from the preternatural forest. “It sounded like Hank, when he contacted us with the Mind Gem.”

“The Mind Gem grants you almost unlimited telepathic powers,” Steve rasped. “It was a telepath who knew we were here and was trying to warn us.”

“But who would do that? Who would know, and who would care, this far away from Earth?” Tony's grip around Steve's waist tightened. “We have to – what the hell?”

Steve shot his gaze back to the landscape. His jaw dropped. At the edge of the forest, a black cloud of plague lapped at the trees. Beyond the forest brimming with life, a rotted field devoid of any semblance of life lay bare. A thick fog laid over it, settling into the land in a way that was overpowering even from here.

“Shit,” Tony swore, “what the hell is up with this place? It wasn't there a minute ago. That thing's like a whole different world.”

“We shouldn't head in that direction either. Where can we – ” Steve gasped as the black fog rumbled and stirred before exploding. Within the instant, him and Tony were trapped in the cloud, and the trees below them crumbled into thick ashes. Steve's gasp turned into a hacking cough. The air was smoky and foul, and his eyes burned. He buried his face into his own neck and turned into Tony's shoulder. The air left his throat raw, and Steve couldn't be certain if it was even safe to breathe.

“Are you all right!?” Tony demanded. He sounded as stunned as Steve felt by the instantaneous destruction.

“It's not just,” even speaking threatened Steve's lungs as he drew out a hacking cough, “a whole different world. It's a whole different reality.” He squinted his eyes up to peer at Tony. Tony was still there, so that meant that they had not lost yet. They would be fine.

“Damn it,” Tony said. The armor spun around, but Steve couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to check what Tony must have been seeing. “The place we came from...it's all the same. No damned trees in sight! We have to get to ground. Hang on there, Cap.”

Steve's stomach lurched as the thrusters on the boots dropped and Tony started his descent. There was no better or worse landing place in a barren wasteland, so straight-down they went, and a few moments later they landed on the ground. Steve fell to his knees the instant he could feel the solid ground through the jerk of the Iron Man armor. He distantly felt Tony trying to make a grab for him, but Steve twisted out of his reach, landing on his hands and knees. His body shuddered as he gasped for breath. The air was no less stank and foul, but at least it no longer scalded the insides of his throat or made his eyes well up with tears. He felt Tony's hand on his back, rubbing in comforting circles, and the thought of metal rather than bare skin jarred him at first, before he realized that it would be beyond idiocy for Tony to expose himself to the current conditions. If Steve reacted like this to the surroundings as a peak human, then Tony, who, for all intents and purposes, was only an average person...

“Air a bit better now? I realized a place that would kill the two of you outright wouldn't be too smart. Good thing it didn't hit me too late! I definitely need some answers, but more than that, I want to have some fun with you two first!”

Steve struggled to bring his head up, the urge to vomit making his head spin. Tony took a step in front of him and their new arrival.

A man with light blond, almost white hair, and glowing yellow eyes stood in front of them. What was most striking though, was his deep purple skin. He was undoubtedly human, but like one pushed through a warped array of colors. His state of dress was that of a powered being, with a billowing cape and a tight-fitting outfit, but his words alone painted him not as a hero, but as a villain.

But none of this made sense. Adam Warlock had helped save the universe before on multiple occasions, some of them alongside the Avengers.

“We're facing someone with the Reality Gem,” Tony edged backwards, closer to Steve. “They could just be showing us a familiar face to lower our defenses.”

“Then they would have been a friendly face.” Steve got to his feet slowly, hoisting his shield so that it sat securely on his forearm. “This Adam doesn't look so friendly. Or even that much like Adam.”

“Either way, it's not the real him, and we don't have to feel bad about fighting him,” Tony muttered. Fighting – Steve couldn't raise any objections. Adam – or the illusion bearing his likeness – had just expressed an intent to murder them.

Steve saw the strike first, but Tony was the one to react. He grabbed Steve by the scruff of his neck and bodily hoisted them both aside with a burst of his thrusters.

“You can't run from me here, Avengers,” Adam pronounced, and Tony's flight was jarred. Both of them were knocked to the ground, in the exact place they had been before they moved. “I think I could make it there can be no place _to_ run, even. This gem truly _does_ have endless possibilities.”

“And I'm thinking neither of us woke from our nightmares,” Tony said, but his words barely reached Steve. All Steve could focus on was the yellow gem that Adam held out. The yellow of the Reality Gem glowed in unison with his eyes, and the sight froze Steve's thoughts in place.

“This isn't some reality bubble that we can run away from.” Tony's voice was strained. “The bastard's broken Heisenberg's uncertainty principle.”

“Or I've taken it to its logical conclusion, Avenger,” Adam cackled. “I would think you'd be my biggest fan for that. Why don't you try using your Space Gem to make your pitiful retreat, that'll be fun! But if I always know where everyone and everything I've set inside this reality is, it also means that motion is impossible. Space has no meaning when you can't move through it, does it?”

Steve shifted his shield so that it would cover him edging his fingers into his pocket. Just because space was invalidated here, didn't mean that time –

Adam's voice went stone cold. “And if you think time exists outside of space, then you would also be sorely mistaken there.”

Tony let out a huff. Steve let his fingers close over the Time Gem as Adam continued his monologue. Egotistical villains never changed, no matter the place or era. Steve ignored the words as he felt the familiar warmth beneath the pads of his fingers at the same time the clasp of Tony's compartment in his gauntlet released.

“Reality is relative. Not just this one, but every one.” Adam said. When Steve squeezed the gem, it felt almost ready to burst at his urging. _Buy us time,_ Steve told it _._

But Adam continued speaking. “Knowing you _hero_ types, and you especially, Captain America, leader of the Avengers and protector of the Earth? You would be the last person to subscribe to relativism, wouldn't you? Ideals exist outside of the mind and morality is the most unsullied when untouched by the dirty hands of humanity.” Steve gritted his teeth and grabbed the Time Gem, pulling it out of his pocket and holding it by his side. He could see the glow out of the corner of his eye, but it didn't stop Adam's words.

“You're wrong, you know! There's nothing objective about this universe, so I created this reality simply to reflect that truth!”

“Stark! Now!” Steve shot his arm out, and his and Tony's hands clasped in each other's. The Time Gem and the Space Gem met. Steve nearly had to squeeze his eyes shut as the gems erupted into light between their joined hands. Steve held tight with his hand and kept his eyes on the black of Tony's gauntlet. This was their reality right now, and nothing that Adam – fake-Adam – whoever this was – there was no certain truth in this place but Steve, Tony, and the Infinity Gems they each held.

There was a sharp screaming noise from Adam's direction at the light of the Infinity Gems, but Steve trained his sight on Tony's armored gauntlet. The scream died out, its echo still ringing in Steve's ears, but it wasn't louder than the roar that shot through his body as the Time and Space Gem worked against a reality that rejected them.

 _No,_ Tony's thoughts drifted into Steve's. It wasn't a reality that just rejected time and space. It was one where – Steve could feel an echo of contemplation as Tony ran through visual analogies. Finally, photographs popped up one-by-one in Steve's vision. No, they weren't photographs – they were frames of a movie, and Steve felt his own confusion echo as he watched frame after frame of Butch and Sundance turn into them charging out of the building with gunfire raining down on them.

 _We're the movie_ , Tony said, and there was something tight in his voice. _Life isn't a set of frames – you need a way to progress between them._ This reality was impossible, then, and Steve felt Tony's affirmation. If life in this reality was impossible without time nor space, then it meant that when its creator realized this paradox, it had to crumble –

“Cap! Iron Man!” Steve could tell by the sound of his voice alone, not infused with a heady and weighted cruelty, that this was their Adam, their friend and ally, but he trained his focus even more on Tony and the Infinity Gems. The other Adam, holder of the Reality Gem, could be fooling them somehow. The nature of the Reality Gem was the least defined and therefore the most dangerous of the six gems that governed this universe.

“Steve!” Steve was shaken by a hand on his shoulder, and with a gasp the light of the Time Gem went out. Steve whipped his hand to his side as Tony groaned and stepped back shakily.

Adam hopped back when Steve attempted to strike him, and raised both his hands in placation.

“Captain! You're fine, it is I – Adam Warlock!”

“How can we be sure of that?” Steve demanded. He might have looked like the normal Adam – eyes and hair and skin all the right color, voice the right pitch, but that didn't tell them anything. Steve cast his glance over his shoulder at Tony, who was standing frighteningly still. “Stark, are you – ”

“I'm fine.” Tony shook his head and took a step forward so that he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, flipping up his faceplate in the process. “Answer his question, Warlock something or another. Or well, you'll try to convince us one way or another regardless, so maybe that's not a question worth asking.”

“Here, then,” Adam said, and unceremoniously dropped the Reality Gem on the ground. Steve looked at it dubiously, then back up to Tony, who looked as confused as he felt. Adam took a few steps back from the gem when Steve and Tony both met him with a glare.

“Unfortunately, your method to show the paradox of this reality, while sound, would not work on the Magus. He is a walking contradiction – turning his mind against him is not the method you need to defeat him,” Adam supplied, while nodding to the gem. “Take it now, Avengers. I am only able to take this body back temporarily. ”

“You were mind controlled?” Steve asked. It made sense, but it would also make sense that this was another trick. He held his shield up and could feel Tony's fingers twitching besides him, ready to blast off a repulsor at a moment's notice.

“No – it's the Magus. He is...the darkness that resides inside of me. When the Reality Gem came, we were locked in a struggle against the other. The gem appeared to us into the middle of that. Therefore half of the gem belongs to me, and half belongs to him, and our time with it reflects our shared ownership over it.”

Tony let out an audible gasp as the landscape around them transformed once more, into the odd, lively forest from before.

“Your headspace is much less foreboding than the other guy, I'll give you that,” Tony said. Adam ignored the off-hand comment and continued.

“Magus believes if he can acquire other Infinity Gems – namely, yours, then he will be able to overpower me.” Adam nodded, then sighed heavily before he reached over and picked up the gem on the ground. Steve took a step backward, and he felt Tony do the same.

“He would be correct,” Adam said. Steve caught the gem on instinct when it was tossed to him.

“And you're giving us the Reality Gem because...?” Tony asked.

“One half of an Infinity Gem cannot overpower the other half. But add two more gems into the equation?”

“So you're saying we have to – ” Steve's words were cut off when the entire world shook beneath their feet. Adam fisted his hands in his hair and howled, his body curling into itself and the sound sending chills down Steve's spine.

“Didn't you listen?” That voice had returned, with its deep cantor, and when Adam took his head out of his hands and looked up, a shadow had laid claim over his face. His eyes blazed, and the Magus laughed again. “Warlock only lays claim to half of the Reality Gem. The other half is...mine!” The forest around them exploded with those words, and Steve was blown back by the force. He spun on the ground and rolled to his feet. Rather than disintegrating altogether, the trees snapped in half with a momentous crack, and the water of the stream turned dark and murky.

“Steve!” Tony shouted. “You have the other half of the gem! Fight him!”

“With – ” Steve extended his arms and clapped the Time and Reality Gems together. With a small bang, Tony started from a dozen feet away until he landed right next to him.

“You...how did...” Tony gasped, looking frantically between Steve and the orange gem in his hand. There must have been a moment of clarity, because he looked from the gems into Steve's face and nodded before slamming his faceplate down. “Okay. Okay. Heh. Congratulations. Looks like things can run here once more. Makes things easier for us.”

“Stick by me!” Steve shouted as he grabbed Tony's arm. With a spurt, he and Tony were next to Magus, both of them ready to strike, until they were blown back with a searing blow. Steve grunted as he hit the ground and he heard the armor's joints as Tony stood back up.

“The taste of the Soul Gem is not with you,” Magus snarled. “My Soul Gem...it's mine! It belongs to me! Where is it!?”

“Oh, about two hundred and one thousand, seven hundred and sixty eight light years away,” Tony quipped before he suddenly yelped. His gauntlets reached up to his neck, and his breath came out in shattered gasps. Steve shouted as the gem shone in his hand, but time didn't reverse.

Tony was coughing now, deep hacking ones, and his arm had begun to jerk erratically. The Space Gem flashed, and it was gone. Steve's heart raced as he squeezed the gem in his hand again to no avail.

With a faint realization, Steve felt the weight of the shield on his arm. How had he forgotten about the shield? He had called it an extension of his arm before, but he had never forgotten the presence of his right hand. Steve hurled the shield toward Magus, and Magus cursed and teleported away an instant before the shield made contact.

What had happened to him, that he forgot about the shield but not his Infinity Gem? Steve heard something collapse to the ground, and he dashed to kneel next to Tony.

“Tony! The Time Gem didn't – ” Steve said hastily, “I tried to – Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me.” Tony clung to Steve's arm as he sat up. “And you know better, Cap. Don't use an Infinity Gem on anything other than trying to nab ourselves an Infinity Gem. Or half of one. If it's the Soul Gem he wants, then he needs both the Time and Space Gems. Hang onto that thing for dear life.”

“Don't think distance makes a difference to one with the Space Gem!” Steve heard from Magus's direction. “Come to me!”

With a thunderous clap, Steve felt his body pulled against its grain to excruciating results. His breath was punched out of him, and he scrabbled for a hold on something, _anything_ to block out the pain. A voice that was too calm, too soothing jarred him out of the stupor.

“You're okay, Cap. There's nothing you should be doing right now. You might think there is, but you're okay.”

Steve looked up at Tony, who stood up, facing Magus.

“How are you still – ?” Magus stared down at his Infinity Gem. “I told it, how _dare_ it not listen to me...!?”

“That's because it can't.” Tony said. The gems in their hands vibrated, and the gem in Magus's hand turned orange. The one in Steve's hand turned purple.

“Turns out, the Reality Gem can even switch two Infinity Gems together. Sounds kind of unfair, doesn't it? You thought it was the Space Gem, but it was actually Time. Hate to tell you something about space-time relativity when you're so intent on it,” Tony's voice was shaky, “but you're wrong. You just have to look at the Infinity Gems. They may be paired, they may be able to work together, but the fact that Time and Space exist separately, and not just one – ” Tony stepped forward. “Means they're not the same thing. Put it short, you tried to move through space with something that could only move through time. Even a screwed up mind can't save you from this – great job there, telling a Gem with infinite power to do something it couldn't do!”

Magus began to scream, and he dropped to the floor on his knees. The Time and Reality Gems dropped from his hands as he reached to tear out his own hair. With a smash, his Reality Gem shattered. Steve tensed as he felt power channel into his own Reality Gem at the cue, and it almost felt like he would be pulled into the gem alongside the surge of energy. His own screams joined Magus's death throes.

“Steve! Damn it, let go of it!”

Tony's words snapped Steve out of it, made him drop the Reality Gem, his hand feeling like it had been burnt. He jumped to his feet and edged closer to Tony, the howls echoing in the space around them. When the screaming ceased, Magus's body lay still, curled onto his side. Steve exchanged a glance with Tony before they both moved cautiously toward the man, Tony scooping up the Time and Reality Gems on the floor. When they stood beside him, Magus rolled onto his back in a blink and his eyes shot open. They were wide and blue.

“He's gone,” Adam gasped. “He's been a part of me for so long, but he's gone.”

“You're welcome,” Tony said curtly as Steve gaped at Adam, “but we didn't do it for you.”

“Of course.” Adam rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt on his clothes as the landscape around them morphed into neither the fantastical forest nor the post-nuclear fallout zone, but an innocuous, grassy field with greenery interspersed. “You've come here for the Infinity Gems.” Adam pointedly took in the three gems that Steve and Tony held. “As someone with firsthand experience with those gems and what they can do, I have to ask you now – what would drive you to such a thing?”

Steve looked at Tony. Tony nodded, and his fingers flexed over the Infinity Gems in his hand as he lifted his helmet off, shaking his head as he did so. So Steve explained their story, from the beginning with the first incursion they stopped successfully with the Infinity Gauntlet, to the reappearance of the Time Gem, the revelation of where the Infinity Gems had gone, and their subsequent collection of them. Tony made noises of affirmation, but kept silent otherwise. When Steve finished, Adam's eyes were closed in deep contemplation.

“The end of a universe. Of all universes.” Adam shook his head forlornly. “Even at the Fault, which I had believed was the gravest danger that our universe had been placed in...that only brought two universes into danger of destruction.”

“All universes,” Tony said, “but certain ones take priority. We have to ensure our universe is safe before saving any others. Like on an airplane – ” Tony tilted his head at Adam. “You wouldn't get that analogy.”

“Like in war,” Steve said. “You make sure of your own condition before your allies'.”

“So you collect the power of one universe through the Infinity Gems then expand outwards.” Adam hummed and nodded. “Expansion is a very human trait.” Considering the number of vast alien empires, Steve couldn't be too sure of the specificity of that statement. “In all the cosmos,” Adam continued, “humanity must be among the hottest of the burning stars.”

“We live fast and die young, you mean?” Tony laughed.

“If anything, I'm impressed at our progress.” Adam smiled back, but it looked strained. “But it doesn't mean – one like Magus would be the one who would exemplify the dangers of expansion.”

“Power,” Tony offered. “Destruction.”

Destruction... “So Magus was the one who showed us those nightmares when we first arrived,” Steve said.

“You would be mistaken there, Captain.” Adam shook his head. “I was the one who showed you those realities,” he admitted. Tony started coughing.

Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony, though his own throat was constricting, before turning his focus on Adam. “Why would you do that?” he demanded more harshly than he intended. “Was there a reason to show us such – were you trying to tell us something?”

The guilt on Adam's face was almost enough to make Steve regret his tone. “I didn't know what it was my visions showed you. I could only sense your desperation, so what you saw was what you are fighting to prevent. It could be considered the worst consequence, your greatest fear. I had hoped it would motivate you, but it appears I was wrong. I'm sorry.”

Steve swallowed thickly, something coiling at the pit of his gut. When he looked to his side, Tony was staring down at his gauntlet.

“What if it's not what we're trying to stop?” Tony asked abruptly. “What if it's something we're trying to do, because it's necessary? What if it was inevitable?”

“If what you saw was what you are trying to accomplish...” Adam's eyebrows knitted together. “It's a simple answer to a complex question. Then you are afraid of reality.”

Tony inhaled sharply before he chuckled breathlessly.

“Fear of the inevitable is natural. Like death,” Adam commented wryly. “But you saw the nature of the reality here. It's something you can change.”

“Well,” Tony tossed the Reality Gem up in the air before catching it, “that tells me this really must be the Reality Gem. Only around this thing can I get a pep talk by the only split-personality space mage in the cosmos.”

“I will take that as a compliment, Iron Man,” Adam punctuated his words with a sharp smile. His expression softened. “If you are in need of me, I could accompany you two,” he said. “I was once called the Avatar of Life, just as Thanos was the Avatar of Death. It is something that could be taken into consideration. Even if, from an objective viewpoint, I shouldn't be of much help to those in possession of Infinity Gems, yet – ”

Steve shook his head as he placed his hand on Adam's shoulder. “You've done more than enough. These gems aren't all too fond of taking others along for the ride. I know location isn't much of an issue for you, but we don't know what time the Power Gem is in and how to take anyone with us. And that's if it's advisable for us to displace someone out of time, which it's not.”

“All the holders of the gems, as you have recalled to me, have been related to you somehow,” Adam pointed out. “Perhaps the Power Gem is closer than you think.”

“You're right, Adam. And you're wrong,” Tony said, and cast a sidelong glance at Steve. Steve could only stare blankly back at him.

“We know exactly where _and_ when the last Infinity Gem is.”

“...What?”

“It's exactly where you left it. Back in Greenland, and I'm off to nab it.”

Steve managed to pull himself from Tony's piercing stare somehow, and down at his hand, where the Time Gem felt like it was throbbing. A shudder ran down Steve's spine as he watched it morph in front of his eyes, elongating and minimizing in the same movement. Steve blinked, and the orange hue of the Time Gem was gone, replaced by a light yellow. Steve stared in shock at the Reality Gem now held in his hand, and it was long, too long before he had the wherewithal to tear his gaze from it.

Tony held the Time and Space Gems, one in each hand, and – he smiled at Steve, but the practiced expression didn't reach his eyes. But the hollowness that laid bare his heart right then was the clearest light Steve had seen Tony in for a long, long time.

_I'll make this right._

The Time and Space Gems reacted automatically to each other's aura, and Steve _knew_. He knew, without any words or explanation, and he had the presence to shout a – warning? A plea?

“Wait!” He began to run, though he knew it was too late. Maybe if Steve held control over time rather than reality, he could have prevented it, and the thought made him scream again.

“ _Tony!”_ He ran toward Tony and grabbed the hand with the Space Gem in it, and his body jerked with the force of hundreds of thousands of light years. But even with that distance traveled together, two hundred and one thousand, seven hundred and sixty eight light years, Tony slipped out of his grip, out of sight and out of time.

Steve crashed into the ground of the desert in Greenland, back to the beginning, again and again, in place but not in era, because Tony was not with him.

Tony was gone, and Steve remembered those memories his traitorous mind had kept from him from the very beginning.

* * *

Steve remembered his first and final meeting with Death. Steve remembered the flash of light blinding his vision after refusing Death's offer, and he remembered that had not truly been the end.

Steve remembered that when the light faded away, he blinked. He was still in the desert where they had fought against Thanos. He was still standing.

What changed from the place before the light and after was the presence of someone new.

“Tony?” Steve asked in disbelief.

“Steve, you're – ” Tony's eyes widened. He had his helmet tucked under his arm, Steve realized. Tony shook his head. “I wasn't thinking,” he laughed wryly. “I actually thought things would go easily for once.”

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded this time. The Time Gem was in _his_ hand – Steve blinked. No it wasn't, he realized with a start. Instead, the gem was held between Tony's fingers, and when had that happened? He remembered squeezing it just seconds ago. “How do you have that?”

“Time travel makes even my mind fall apart,” Tony said with a soft, empty smile. “Just tell me. Did I come before or after you refused to sacrifice me?”

It felt like Steve's stomach had dropped out of his body. “What are you talking about?”

“The Soul Gem that Thor gave to me,” Tony told him. “I really didn't mean to, but it told me the moment I held it about what you did. Didn't do.” Tony was speaking to the dirt in front of Steve, but the indignation over Tony avoiding eye contact with him was washed away by his words clamoring inside Steve's mind.

“What?” Memories and ideas and facts attempted to click together in Steve's mind, but they scraped and screeched jagged against each other. The Soul Gem was destroyed; there was no Thor that could have given it to any Tony.

“Right, that doesn't mean anything to you yet,” Tony laughed hollowly. “Time itself doesn't mean anything if you've never lived through it. And space doesn't mean anything if you've never moved through it. Here I thought the time and space duo were unstoppable.” His expression stuttered for an instant, painfully vulnerable before it steeled itself into stiffness. “I need to know – did you say no already?”

Steve didn't reply. He didn't know _how_ to reply. Tony muttered something under his breath and swept a harried gaze around the area, the armor turning three hundred and sixty degrees.

“Damn it!” he finally swore. “I missed her – how? I told the gems to come where you were when you told her no!”

“Her?” The only 'her' in the area was standing right next to Tony, passively gazing upon him, and – Tony couldn't see Death, Steve realized with a start. That was why he was so desperate. But why would he want to find her?

Had Steve said no already? Had Steve refused to sacrifice a friend – yes, a friend, because over a decade of memories couldn't be wiped away by one betrayal even if Steve didn't want to believe it but it was how it was. Had Steve refused to kill Tony Stark? Yes, he had. Shudders ran down Steve's spine, because he couldn't make that choice over someone else's life, but they could make it on their own.

Tony had come here to choose to die, he realized with a growing, curdling sickness in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes,” Steve said. “She's gone. Death isn't here anymore.”

Death turned her face to stare at him. Steve had gone on about how he shouldn't be allowed to make the choice for someone else, but how could he say that if they would make the choice themselves? It would make him a hypocrite.

No, it didn't make Steve a hypocrite. He had decided to do what was right, and Tony dying wasn't right, couldn't be right, and the idea of Tony choosing the bad, _wrong_ choice again, just like he always had whenever they disagreed, made Steve so livid he could have smashed Tony's face in if he went through with it.

Steve felt like he was tightening, winding around himself more and more, but being released and loosened and lost at the same time. Tony came here to die, but he couldn't, not without Death to make a deal with him. Steve wouldn't allow that to happen.

When Steve tried to move forward, a rush of panic surged over him. His legs wouldn't move. When he tried to reach down with his arms to check, he was stopped in place yet again. His eyes were trained straight ahead, and even his mouth couldn't open. He could breathe, and maybe this meant he was still alive or present somehow, but a mere instant of immobility was enough to make his panic begin to rise. Death stared at him impassively. Steve wanted to shout at her for doing this to him, but couldn't.

Tony glanced over at him, and an expression crossed his face, but Steve's mind was racing too fast for what emotion it was to come across to him.

“Steve – ?” When Tony stepped forward, the release jarred, and Steve collapsed to the ground, his hands making palm marks in the side as he laid them out flat before closing his fist.

Tony stopped moving, and Steve could barely just raise his head. Tony was gaping at him, but his eyes were wide and bulging, and his face was quickly turning purple. Death was next to him, and she had laid a hand on his cheek.

A surge of rage overwhelmed Steve, and he managed to rise to just one knee. “Get away from him! Tony!” His voice came out strong and loud and clear, and he felt his throat constrict the instant the words left him.

Death didn't deign Steve with a glance. She snapped her fingers, and the red Power Gem popped up. She reached out until the Power Gem touched the Time Gem gripped in Tony's hand.

“Fuck!” Tony jumped. “What – you're – ” Tony blinked at Death and backpedaled several steps back.

Death merely smiled and held out her hand.

“Come to me, my child.” Her voice was honey-sweet. “He is life, but you are death, and I ask only for one death for one universe.”

“You're – that's it? It's really that easy?” Tony boggled. “You're a beautiful woman, it can't be,” he laughed, but the sound was hollow, before his eyes steeled over. “You're...not going to make you take someone else with me, or anything? Believe me, the last thing in the world – the universe now, we're going to go with the grandest scale here – you're going to get is for me to drag someone else into hell with me.”

“Hell?” Death tilted her head. “If that is what you want,” she smiled, “you could experience death in that way.”

“I've done things I'm definitely going to hell for, but it's still not on my bucket-list, thanks.” Tony's voice was lilted too light, and it didn't matter if Steve could hear how forced it was – no one should talk about their own death like that.

“Tony! God damn it, we can find another way!” Steve shouted past the chokehold on his throat. The voice that escaped him was thin and pitiful, but it didn't matter how Steve sounded. It didn't matter if he was strong or weak or if he could save the world or condemn the universe. All he needed to do in this instant was for his words and his heart to reach Tony. Tony's head turned toward him. His expression was one of grim determination and wistfulness. He shook his head.

“I don't get you, Cap. Why wouldn't you want me to do this? Besides, it doesn't work like that,” Tony said softly. “You said we could find another way to stop an incursion. I've found it. You can't tell me that this isn't good enough, either. The stakes here are too high to not lose something in return. Life and death, balance, a reaction for every action. Newton's third law.”

This wasn't science. This wasn't math. There was no problem to be worked out, to determine what exactly warranted doing the unthinkable, some variable that would balance out the equation. Human lives didn't _work_ like that.

Steve couldn't accept it. “This isn't a solution!”

“Maybe it's not yours, but it's mine.” Tony turned away, and the grip over Steve's body tightened so much so he nearly collapsed on the floor. “You need to start learning that solutions different than yours aren't automatically the wrong one.”

Tony raised his head to meet Death's gaze. “This ending makes too much sense now that I think about it,” he mused.

“That bodes well.” Death's voice was pleasant, and Steve felt like he could crack as he struggled against the hold on him. Death reached a hand out to him, not taking her eyes off Tony, and Steve wanted to cry out as he was slammed to the ground, his chin jarring the ground enough to make him see stars. “Are you telling me you can recount numerous near-death experiences?”

“I'm an Avenger,” Tony laughed. “It's part of the job description.” His face grew serious. “But I don't go running into death, not without a good reason. Until I tried to brain myself against the combined might of Thor and Steve. I knew it was beyond stupid, but I couldn't stop myself. That was your doing, wasn't it?”

“Time is a strange being that I do not deign it necessary to understand,” Death said. “All I know is that all come to me in the end. If something hampers their way,” her eyes flitted to Steve for a brief moment, “then I myself will take any measure to ensure their passage to death.”

Tony's eyes were closed, and Steve's throat closed up as he opened his mouth to make his plea again, his body nearly popping under the stress as he fought against his restraints. “You never answered my question from before.” The blue of Tony's eyes blazed when he opened them. “I talked to a Thor from the future on my way here. I'd like to keep him that way.”

“You traveled to the past, to this point in time.” Death looked a bit irritated. “Surely you understand that your memories might not mean anything anymore.”

“Regardless, if you can have me, don't take him.” There was a pointed steadiness in Tony's words.

“The Asgardian was the reason I stood watch over this battle in the beginning,” Death sniffed.

“I know that you're already offering us more than we deserve. My life is too little to pay for everything you will give us. But. Please.” Something sharp buried itself in Steve's chest at the reality of Tony begging.

After a pause, Death tilting her head back and forth, she hummed. “Very well,” she said. “I will spare his life, for now. There is much greatness, triumph and tragedy, still waiting for that being, and he would bring about the death of many more that I would be willing to spectate.” With a soft sigh, she waved a hand, and warmth flared around them for a flash of a second.

“But in exchange for the lives given from myself, I will now accept my payment.” Death reached out to Tony, and after a pointed pause, Tony held out his own hand. He looked down, before reaching over one of his gloves and unclasping the holds on the armor. Steve began to call out his own override codes to no avail, because he could barely hear the sounds that came out of his own throat.

But all Tony's codes could do was to disarm the armor, he realized with a faint horror. He could dismantle all of Tony's defenses and even his body, his mind, his heart, but Tony hadn't given him the right to protect him.

“Don't,” he shouted, or attempted to, but it barely came out as a low, broken plea. “God. Please. Tony.”

The gauntlet fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud, and Tony raised his hand again. When Death touched him, hand to hand, bare skin to bare skin, he spasmed once, then collapsed to the earth with the same aplomb as the piece of his gauntlet.

“Humanity has paid its price and debt for my favor,” Death said, looking down at the – She reached to her side then, and rested her arm on nothing but air. Steve stared at the empty space, desperate, helpless, because there was only one person who could have been there who Death could have touched.

All he could see was the dust and sand floating in the air, and soon enough, that was all he could see, the figure of Death vanished.

The holds on him broke, and Steve slammed his fist into the ground. A roar ripped itself from his throat. Unexpected droplets spotted the earth, darkening the grains of sand there, and he punched it again, trying to wipe away all evidence of what had transpired there. It hurt, more than what should have been possible, the pain as his fist slammed the ground over and over nothing compared to what tore him apart from the inside out.

_the anguish threatened to rip apart your being from your soul_

He couldn't look up. There was no way that he could, no way he could face the reality of what lay in front of him. He couldn't look, not even after the skin on his knuckles had torn apart and gravel buried itself into his raw wounds. He should have never looked, he should have never picked up the Time Gem, never figured out what the Illuminati had been doing, never figured out who they had to talk to to get them back, never never _never_

_I have to get him back, this can't –_

He paused. The stillness of this place pounded as his ears as realization struck. He could. He wasn't helpless. He still – Tony was still alive in his time. He could save him, he didn't have to go on without –

Steve didn't spare a glance for anything besides the other him, frozen in place, when he sprinted across the field, the long strides making him stumble over small rocks, but it didn't matter, he could save Tony in his time, stop him from sacrificing himself somehow. He scrambled for the shield, knowing what he should find there – _would_ find there.

The Time Gem shone, orange and bright in betrayal. It didn't matter. It had made his entire world fall apart around him, but if it could help him now, in this instant –

After Steve used the Time Gem, it dropped with a clatter on the shield, left behind for that other, past, more innocent him.

* * *

But he failed, was Steve's first thought when he rose to his hands and knees, opening his eyes, the ground muddled in his vision. He had failed, Tony had stolen the Time and Space Gems anyway, Tony had – Steve was too late.

His memories of what Tony had done had vanished, been wiped by Death's hand when he went back to the present, but that didn't take back the fact of his failure.

The blades from before that had pierced his chest, the moment he had watched Tony die in front of his very eyes and been helpless to stop it, dug back in, reopening wounds that were both old and new.

Of course he wasn't actually bleeding, he realized dully when he looked down. The scales of his armor shined blue as always, with no red to stain them, and part of him regretted that fact. He shook a bit when a drop of blood fell onto the ground before him, and he reached up to pat at his forehead. His glove came away wet. He had crashed head-first into the ground, and when he eyed the area surrounding him, saw the jagged rock responsible for the cut above his eyebrow with blood gleaming on its edge.

When he looked up and around, the sun had begun to rise. It must almost be time to stop the incursion, and there was nothing in Steve but a dull numbness that flickered for a single spark at that thought.

The sunlight caught on something – someone – lying on the ground. The black and gold armor shone, but the red light in its center did not. Steve's feet didn't feel like his own, these steps not ones he took, but he ended up besides the armor regardless. The palms of the gauntlets faced upward, and that made something crack inside Steve, more than watching the life stolen away from Tony, more than watching Tony fall did.

There was no way Tony Stark would ever leave his repulsors exposed so carelessly, and the matter of that truth was what convinced him of the unassailable truth.

He fell to his knees, eyes searching for something, anything. They caught on the upturned gauntlets. The orange and purple of the Time and Space Gems lay in the dirt besides the gauntlet, obscured by the sand. But something red blinked at him, and Steve mistook it for the light of the repulsor, which meant that the armor was on, it meant that –

The Power Gem lay in the palm of the gauntlet, and Steve hated himself more than the traitorous gem in that instant. He had...when Tony had held the Soul Gem, he had realized the price Death had asked for. And then the Time and Space gems gave him the opportunity to reenact that plan. Steve's chest felt too tight, like he was about to explode.

Tony had sacrificed himself when even Steve had been unwilling to. It would have been wrong and evil, of course it was. But no matter how much anger, how much resentment he held toward Tony, he couldn't have brought himself to do it. Not after this rift that had torn open between them. The last time he had lived through it, he had lost everything. He couldn't do that again, and what did that mean for him, now?

He had told Tony he was out of his life, told _himself_ that Tony was out of his life, but now when he was gone, and Steve couldn't hold himself together long enough to fall apart properly.

The Time Gem blinked at him when he scooped it up. Steve wanted to squeeze the light out of it, which had become so familiar over the course of – it hadn't even been a day, really. It had been a comfort, but now the sight and feel of it disgusted him.

What did it matter anymore? Having a grasp over all of time no longer meant anything. Tony was – the first person he had seen when he woke from the ice. In the world Iron Man and Tony Stark had shown him, in those dazzling lights and that loud music, were the steps his nation had taken to freedom and liberty and everything that Steve held himself to. In the armor Tony had built, in that awe-inspiring ingenuity and the certainty that people could forge forward, make their own path, create their better world, was all the hope Steve had ever felt for humanity since the moment he had first lied on his army recruitment form.

 _I don't understand why you don't want me to do this,_ Tony had asked him.

Because – “You were my future,” Steve said, and with those words confessed all he had lost.

Somehow he knew that if he hadn't spoken aloud the sentiment, he might have cried. Broken down in sobs. But with those succinct words, it felt meaningless, an empty grief. It wouldn't have mattered if he shed tears or not anymore. There was no more reason to fall apart, not when there was anything to lift him back up out of the ashes.

There was no bringing back relics of a lost time – a lesson that Steve had learned long ago, when he had lost his past. And now everything else of his was gone but the present.

The one that they were dangerously close to losing, he reminded himself, to little recognition. What Tony had sacrificed himself for, and that was what forced Steve to move. His limbs felt heavy beyond all reason, the exhaustion of the final day threatening to choke away the last of him. Twice he had been called life, but at this moment, he couldn't have felt like anything but it. He shifted first to his knees, not even daring to place his hands on the floor to lift himself up.

His hands trembled as he reached out to pick the armor up.

* * *

The sun was unforgivably hot as it beat down on him, and the dry air and harsh winds split Steve's lip.

He didn't lick his lips, or shield his eyes. It took all his effort to shuffle his feet, periodically blink blood out of his eyes, and keep his mind perfectly blank as he walked. The body in his arms remained still, and Steve's arms trembled with the effort of holding it. The body was heavy, and the metal dug into Steve's forearms, but he knew that even if the armor were stripped away, and the clothes and shoes removed, it would remain the heaviest burden he had ever carried.

Steve couldn't bring himself to do anything with the Infinity Gems other than pocket them, where they felt like they would burn right through his uniform. Nor could Steve bring himself to remove the gauntlet from Ton – the armor's left hand to call the Illuminati using the signaling device embedded there. So he walked through the desert instead. Hank and Stephen would sense the Infinity Gems' presence and the Illuminati would come immediately and they would enter the incursion zone together. There was less than an hour until the incursion hit, after all.

They had the six Infinity Gems. Steve held four of them himself, all of them except the ones that reached out to the minds and souls of others. That was always his problem, wasn't it? His greatest blessing and his worst curse. He could touch other people's lives, change them radically, but he wouldn't allow them to do the same in turn to his. The whole world always left him behind, but how much of that was Steve refusing to move forward with it?

A torrent of colors erupted in front of him, and Steve didn't hesitate. He walked into the portal of rainbows. The dark, cool air of Necropolis invited him in. He nearly collided into Stephen, who side-stepped at the last second as Steve continued forward into the semi-circle of Illuminati.

“Steve! Where's Tony? Why were you stranded at the incursion zone? Was there a unprecedented situation with the Space – ” Reed stopped mid-sentence as he looked, first from Steve's face, eyes widening, and right, his forehead must have been a mess of dried blood at this point. Then he looked to the armor he held, realization and horror dawning on his face.

Steve never wanted to see Reed Richards rendered speechless again.

* * *

Tony was not the only person who betrayed Steve.

The person who had chosen to give Tony the Soul Gem over Steve, the person who had known exactly where that would lead, the one he had called his brother in arms.

Tony could make the most horribly misguided of choices, but Thor shone in a way that Steve couldn't hope to rival. Thor could be rash, but did that olden king still have the same brashness as his younger, princely counterpart? No – there was nothing brash about making a trusted friend promise you they would kill themselves.

How far had Steve fallen, to grow to hate Thor? Thor, who had never opposed Steve, who Steve had trusted to be by his side in any battle. Was it everyone, then? Everyone else but him who made the wrong decision, who couldn't _understand_ how wrong it was? Was it worth it, to save a universe full of people like that?

How far had Steve fallen, to grow to hate the world? So he didn't. He couldn't. The Illuminati sold their souls, but the only thing Steve could, _had_ given away to these damned incursions, to the hell of this end of universes, was his heart.

“We must take the Infinity Gems to the incursion site, Captain,” Stephen told him. Steve had no eyes for Stephen, focusing instead on the green Soul Gem Stephen uncovered from beneath his cloak. Steve hated that gem, instead. He hated the Infinity Gems, and the Infinity Gauntlet, and incursions and Great Destroyers and –

“We have no one currently willing to use the Infinity Gauntlet.” Of course. No one wanted to fail like Steve had. “But there is one person we have not asked yet.” The meaning behind Stephen's words clicked in place.

“Is this your way of telling me to use it again?” Steve could have gone into hysterics. “The smartest men in the world are true idiots.”

“As a user of the arcane arts, I will be the first to say that conviction is the most key element of any spell, magical in nature or not. Without that, even the concept of the spell will not hold.”

“So it's me. Only me.” The words rang hollow in Steve's ears. “Only I'm stupid enough to think this can actually work.” Of course it had to work. Tony had died in order for it to succeed. There was nothing more unstoppable than that man's unrelenting drive to kill himself if he thought it'd make a difference. If Steve had Tony's dying wish behind him, then there was no more he needed.

“We cannot force you to wield it if you do not desire to. Any resistance in the usage of the gems would have literal catastrophic results.”

“Give it here,” Steve said, holding out his hand. “That's why you're here, right?”

Stephen took a halting step forward before slowly lowering the Soul Gem into Steve's outstretched palm.

Steve closed his fist over the gem. “I'll be there.”

“As will we.” Stephen hesitated visibly, as if he wanted to say more. But Steve could feel the scrutiny of his gaze upon him, and the small step backwards. Stephen turned on his heel and left.

All Steve could know about himself with absolute certainty, in that very moment, was that he hated the Soul Gem more than anything else. So, a shock went straight through him. Something existed inside the stone that called out to him the moment it had touched his hand. A familiar, exhilarating warmth that Steve couldn't have ever brought himself to hate.

So Steve reached out to that final fragment of a soul that rested inside the Soul Gem, the one that called to him louder and stronger than the countless gods, magicians, and cosmic beings who had possessed it before a mere human with the ability to change the universe had laid his hands on it.

Images flashed through Steve's head, the emotions too fleeting or too personal for him to dwell upon. Sitting on a bed, staring down at the golden chestplate that protected his heart but hid it away from anyone who ventured too close. An alleyway in the gloom of night, an empty bottle in hand the only thing he could bring himself to focus on past the foul, dank smell and the scuttle of cockroaches around him.

Rhodey rolling his eyes as he donned Tony's armor with a sigh. Jan tilting her head as she inspected the Avengers' dress clothes for the gala that evening. Rumiko, both of her hands on his arm, tugging him along.

Joy and sorrow, hope and despair – Steve touched upon each vision before jerking away. Of course Tony had a life outside of the Avengers. Steve shielded his eyes from the memories too bright for him to see.

Until – a wave of despair washed over him, and Steve was struck by the intensity of it. It pulled him down, like a current he couldn't fight before he could recover. Like he was drowning again, with the only fate left for him being encased in ice at the bottom of an ocean.

It was him he saw, the flood of emotion crashing over him again and again before he could pull away. Steve looked through Tony Stark's eyes to see the corpse of Steve Rogers covered by his shield on a table. How – Tony didn't remember this either, but memories were nothing in the face of a soul – The thoughts, and soon the sight was soon overtaken by agony, the shard of soul in the gem drowned out by pain and grief, and only words and thoughts floated through the thick fog.

 _It means there's winning and there's_ _**winning** _ _and sometimes winning doesn't feel like winning._

The darkness crept upon Steve, narrowing his vision smaller and smaller as he tried to call out to a Tony who didn't exist anymore, hadn't existed from the moment Steve had awoken after the Civil War.

 _weapons and ideals and things worth fighting for – things worth_ _**dying** _ _for_

But not killing for, Steve wanted to argue past the weight on his chest, but there were things you couldn't –

_I knew that meant you and I would probably never speak again. Or be friends again. Or partners again._

But you're wrong, Steve called out. Even then, I had trusted you with what I thought was most important. Even in the end, when I had told you you were off the team and out of my life, I never stopped lov –

_It was! It was the right thing to do!_

No it wasn't, you idiot, being right shouldn't warrant this much pain, being good can't hurt this much –

_Even though I said I was willing to go all the way with it...I wasn't...and – and I know this because the worst has happened. The thing I can't live with has happened._

Why why why did you leave me behind, what kind of world have you left me with on my own –

The illusion broke with an explosive shatter. Steve stared at the gem, his own soul raw and aching. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

In the end, for all of their differences, there was one thing Steve Rogers and Tony Stark could agree upon.

_It wasn't worth it._

* * *

Steve took a step forward. He sensed the Illuminati falling into place behind him, the men fanning out in a semi-circle around him. The tension lay thick in the air, but there was no point in being ready to spring into action. All there was to do was to look upward at the Earth hurtling toward them. It appeared frozen in place, but the timer was enough to tell them that was only a wishful illusion. It all fell to Steve, in the end. It could have been fitting – the fate of the universe falling to the shoulders of life to hold it up. If it was just a matter of running through the motions, nothing to call upon but physical strength, it didn't matter if life was an empty, hollowed out shell.

“Well, gentlemen, this is it,” Hank said. “I suppose I should say 'it's been a pleasure.'”

“Speak for yourself,” Namor spat. “We're useless. A repeat of our previous failure is the best we could come up with?”

“We had eight hours,” T'Challa said. “We've had months before this point to face this, and we have not mustered up with better in even that time.”

Black Bolt held his hand out, glancing between them before shaking his head. Lockjaw shifted closer to his master with a snort, slobber hanging from his mouth.

“Black Bolt is right,” Stephen said. “There's no point in arguing. We have just under thirty minutes to do this.”

“Well, do it again for us, Captain,” Namor laughed. “Save the universe once more. Third time's the charm, after all, isn't it?”

On that cue, the Illuminati held up their respective gems, Black Bolt in possession of the Space Gem in their missing member's place. Steve held up the Time Gem in his right hand.

 _They want to be together._ The Infinity Gems trembled, all six of them finally gathered in one place. The outline of the Gauntlet appeared first, the tips of the fingers, then finally down to the base of the glove. The gems vanished one by one, filling in the gaps made for them. Power, Reality, Soul, Mind, Space –

There was a loud snap when the Time Gem vanished that made them all jump. It didn't reappear in the hole at the last knuckle, not even after the most panicked, longest seconds of Steve's life.

“The Time Gem is – ” Reed's stunned voice shook them all out of their stupor.

“T-that's not possible,” Steve said. They hadn't even used the gauntlet, they hadn't even – it – everything they had done, everything he had lost. It couldn't have been for nothing. The Time Gem had showed up to save the universe and taken a price that had been too great to pay. It couldn't _disappear_ , not now, not ever.

But it had, and one by one, Space, Mind, Soul, Reality, and Power joined it in its world of nothingness. The Gauntlet disintegrated before their eyes, and the moment it disappeared, five hands reached for it. All except for Steve. His mouth hung agape as his thoughts sprinted through cycles.

 _It's not impossible – they're here – but they're gone – they were just_ _**here** _ _–_

The Illuminati grappled at the empty space of the Infinity Gauntlet, denying through their actions what Steve did with his thoughts. Black Bolt stepped a few steps back and his head tilted back, his fingers clutching and squeezing at his cowl. Lockjaw began to bark fiercely in warning as Black Bolt's mouth opened. The shout that erupted made the ground beneath them quake and shook Steve to his core, his eyes ringing with the force. He could see the walls of the incursion zone blink in and out with the force of Black Bolt's voice.

As suddenly as it began, the voice was cut off sharply. Black Bolt raised his hand to his throat as his mouth opened and closed, his eyes wide with shock. Lockjaw began to bark again, but it wasn't directed at the Illuminati who stood around him. Steve followed the direction of the sound, and the world froze in place.

Someone stood there, in the red light of the impending incursion. Fitted over their hand was the Infinity Gauntlet, the six gems slotted in place. But the force of a universe couldn't have distracted Steve from the person who wielded the Gauntlet.

Tonytonytonytony _tony –_

Iron Man didn't acknowledge them. There was no way to truly know where the person inside was looking, but Steve had fought by his side long enough to know his tells, and he saw enough now that he knew he and the Illuminati weren't the focus of attention.

The being blinked, and from its eyes poured a rainbow of light. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. The gems blinked in succession before they remained lit, shining in unison, and the glow of each in turn was enough to stop all of them in their tracks.

They didn't move. They _couldn't_ move, and Steve could no longer tell if it was because of them or because of Iron Man.

Iron Man raised his gauntlet, and the ground around them shuddered. The immensity of the situation hit Steve again, and with a panicked upward glance, he saw the other Earth. It hung still, seemingly locked in place. The being closed his hands into a fist with one finger pointing upward. The Space Gem glowed brighter than all the others, and with a buzz that shook the air, the other Earth moved. But this time it moved further away, the figure growing smaller by increments, and the heat and cold and buzzing became less harsh.

When Iron Man lifted his fingers one by one, the gems' intensity was almost blinding. One, two, three – something seized Steve then, a familiar quaking of his heart and his bones. He was running before he realized he shouldn't.

“Stop! Tony!” The ringing in his ears got louder and louder the closer he reached the Infinity Gauntlet even as the crimson in the air dimmed. “You can't use it!”

The light of the last gem, resting on the back of the hand, was a dim green. The accursed Soul Gem had been just another beginning to their end, and Steve wouldn't allow it. Not this time. He smashed chest-first into the armor, his hand reaching for the gauntlet. He wrapped his fingers around the four gloved fingers of the gauntlet and squeezed as he toppled them over, crashing into the ground. The impact lurched his body, the armor digging into his chest and his legs splayed in an attempt to catch their footing. Steve tugged at the gauntlet, and bursts of pain made his vision fray at the edges, but he pulled again regardless, his muscles straining with the effort. He couldn't let the Infinity Gauntlet shatter again, he wouldn't allow anyone, let alone Tony, bear the burden of a failed universe on his shoulders, there was –

Steve felt the tug of the Infinity Gauntlet snap when he forced it off Iron Man. It was the only thing he allowed his body to feel – not the mind-blanking pain, not the barrage of attacks to his mind, nor the screaming that he only realized he could stop now, in favor of deep, rending gasps. The Infinity Gems scattered around the ground where he and Tony lay, and Steve rested his cheek on the cool armor as he stared at them, his body refusing to reboot for long, agonizing moments.

The gauntlet of the Iron Man armor lay in the dirt, and Steve focused his attention on that, instead. With a start, he shot up, the shocks that went through him a mere afterthought as he realized that he had used so much strength he had pulled part of the armor clean off. His panic made him claw blindly at the dirt as he scrambled up and saw the exposed right hand. It was a familiar hand, one he'd watched fly over keyboards and machinery and paperwork with a practiced dexterity so that it engrained himself in Steve's memory, this unforgettable piece of someone who was as much a part of him as his mother's smile. And the hand wasn't grey with death, and Steve grasped at it, holding it between his own hands. It remained cool to the touch and hung limply between his fingers.

No, no, no –

Steve squeezed, and he wanted to do it harder, _force_ blood to run through the body's veins until he realized what he had just done to the armor. He could crush all the bones in that frail body's hand if he was desperate enough (and he was, was desperate more than anything he had ever felt). Steve ran his arm over the body, cursing the armor for denying him the comfort of human contact, before he reached the helmet. He leaned in.

“Armor override. Steve Rogers. Code 34-44-54-64.”

 _Armor server online,_ it chirped back to him.

“Armor order: unlock.”

Steve barely heard the locks on the armor shift and click out of place before yanking the helmet off without abandon. His breaths rattled him as he stared at who was underneath.

It was Tony, it was Tony, and Steve felt like he was going to fall apart with the pounding in his ears. He finally collected himself enough to press two fingers to the pulse point in Tony's neck. A weak, steady beat coursed beneath his touch and it coursed through Steve as well. It felt like something had taken hold of his heart and was choking the life out of it, and it was par the course, really, when it came to Tony. Steve leaned down and put his ear next to Tony's mouth.

He was breathing.

Oh, thank god, thank you, thank you, God. Steve's hands trembled as he sat up and brushed stray hair off Tony's forehead. The crushing weight, heavier than any number of Infinity Gems, had been lifted from him with that one breath, and seeing Tony's chest rise and fall, even if it was just barely visible –

a choked sob escaped him.

It was dangerous, how much Tony made him feel.

Steve finally had the wherewithal to peer around him at the Infinity Gems scattered in a haphazard circle where he had tossed the gauntlet and hear the shouts of the other Illuminati as they realized Tony was alive. Steve held out his arm and felt how the group stopped and held in place from his command.

“There are fewer than fifteen minutes left.” Stephen's voice was clipped from anxiety. “We have to use the Gauntlet no matter what.”

“I think we should, too,” Steve said, and then he shook his head as he realized what it must have looked like to the others, him pushing Tony aside. “It's just – I got the same feeling from Tony using it as last time. It was going to break again.”

“Steve, you misunderstand,” Reed said. “Stephen is saying that we have to use it even if we _know_ it will break. There's no other choice.”

“But – ” Steve gritted his teeth. This couldn't be how it happened again. Repeating the same mistakes, no matter who it was who wielded the Gauntlet.

“I can't be the one to use it anymore,” Steve admitted. “I can't believe it will not shatter, and even thinking that...is enough for it to not work in the first place.” He looked down at Tony as he spoke, and stroked the side of his cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Namor began to guffaw. “This is it, then?” He threw his head back in a howl. “The Gauntlet is miraculously reassembled, Stark won't stay dead even when he sold his own wretched soul to death, and now even Captain America holds his tail between his legs. And _now_ it's too damn late to shuttle the device to the other Earth, even though I told you worthless lot to do it. Unbelievable.” His voice was scathing. “We are truly the most useless, cowardly men in the universe, unable to stand behind the very device we built. Our souls weren't a big enough sacrifice, was it? Barely made a dent in the cost asked of us. Because we're meaningless! Worthless in the face of a universe!” He spread his arms wide. “Someone up there is pointing at us and laughing at us and our wretched hubris, and I welcome it!”

Steve had to resist a wince at the meaning of Namor's words. There was no way the Illuminati didn't prepare a fail-safe in case the Infinity Gauntlet didn't pan out, he had told himself. He had been the one standing between life and genocide, and that belief was what drove him through that journey. But he hadn't. He had been the one standing between life and death, and the familiar adage drew his eyes to the unconscious man lying before him.

Namor's peals of laughter sounded across the desert, and their regrets and sorrow grew heavier with them. Until Tony coughed, and Steve shifted, all attention on him now, Namor's words and the meaning of their failure a mere echo. Steve framed Tony's head with his arms, peering down at him, shading his face from the sun. Shielding him, and from what, Steve didn't know anymore.

Blue eyes shot open, and Tony searched Steve's face, although Steve couldn't say if he actually saw anything.

“Steve?” Tony croaked, and a helpless grin slid over Steve's face, the most exhilarated he had felt in what seemed like a very, very long time. “Steve, what are you – _shit_.”

Steve's hand was on Tony's shoulder within the instant. “Are you okay?”

“It's – the sky, we're in a damn _incursion zone!_ Where the hell is the Gauntlet, and what do you think you're doing right now, looking at me like that instead of – !? ” Tony batted Steve out of the way as he sat up with a muffled groan. His eyes gunned to the Infinity Gems and he nearly fell over trying to reach for them. “Jesus! What the hell happened to this piece of – ” One boot was kicked off and Tony ripped off panels and armor plating as he forewent standing, instead racing toward the gems in a panicked crawl.

Tony scooped the gems up, sand clumps making a small dust cloud in his haste, and he turned to the Illuminati, glancing wildly between them and the gems.

“There's – Has everyone gone mad?” He waved his hand around, and that was a sight, Tony gesturing wildly with the complete control over souls, space, and reality clutched between his fingers. “I don't like it when things get the drop on me, and if you haven't noticed, there's around six times ten to the twenty-fourth kilos floating _right above us_.”

Namor threw his hands up in disgust and Reed hummed and stroked his chin with a finger.

“What are you all _doing_?” Tony demanded, and his eyes shot to Steve's, looking for an answer. “We have to stop the incursion!”

“No,” Steve said, even as a weight sank in him at the realization. “You have to stop the incursion.” He knew what he had felt when Tony, or whatever had possessed Tony, had used the gauntlet. It wasn't so much a matter of _wrong_ , but one of _not enough,_ that there was something missing from the equation that wasn't as tangible as an element of the universe.

But the person who had wielded the gauntlet mere moments before wasn't really Tony if the man couldn't remember. Just because Steve failed at something on the basis of will didn't mean Tony had to, as well. Steve was one of the most qualified to say that Tony Stark was a stubborn piece of work, after all.

“...What? Me?” Tony was incredulous as he peered at the other Illuminati, as if he thought they would offer up an alternative to Steve's apparent lunacy. “Has the incursion already happened and everything has been blown to bits?” He laughed hollowly. “Cause everyone is sure as hell acting like it.”

“It's not, and you are going to use it,” Steve said, decision long made on what he had to say and what it could and couldn't include. “Out of everyone, you used the Gauntlet before successfully, against the Hood. Which means you have the best track record out of everyone here.”

“That's not the same.” Tony shook his head. “I wasn't trying to push back an entire universe then. I wasn't asking something of it that, far as I can tell, has never been done before.”

“What is the same, then?” Steve demanded. “Is this the same as the last time the Infinity Gauntlet was assembled, when I used it? Do you think we'll achieve the same result?”

“No.” There was no hesitation in Tony's voice. “We're not the same men we were back then.”

Steve let Tony's swords sink in, and they shook him, somewhere deep inside him.

If the Gauntlet was destroyed again, then it meant that preventing an incursion truly did require the power of a universe. But Tony wouldn't think of it like that. He would blame himself for not using it properly, put the weight of countless lives on his own shoulders.

Steve had let himself be punched by Namor, when he had used it the first time and broke the gems. He had failed and driven them into a corner, so he deserved to have the others' anger taken out on him. But, hours later, he had still stood at that table and spoken to them, imploring them to remember themselves and what it meant to take that unforgivable step. Steve had felt guilt, and desperation, and even despair, yes, but never had he forgotten himself or his ideals.

If Tony used the Gauntlet and the gems shattered once more, Tony...Tony would be shattered along with them. The very thought made Steve feel sick, and why was it, that in this moment, he could spare a worry for a single life?

But when Steve had worn the Gauntlet, it was Tony who had coached him through the process. Steve wouldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment, not for something like this. Not anymore. His world had shifted back into place, now, reminders of his purpose and what he had to do. There were things more important than Steve or Tony. Tony might not have had the faith in himself, but he had the faith in the gems, unlike everyone else in this place.

“I trust you,” Steve said, and he didn't even know if it was a lie anymore. Tony was silent.

“Give it to me,” he finally said.

Within instants, they gathered around Tony, hope vaguely renewed but the tension was enough to make the energy around them bristle. The Time Gem must have reacted to the pounding in Steve's heart, pulsing as it hovered above Steve's own hand.

“The Captain's reasoning makes sense,” Hank said, tilting his head toward Steve in a show of understanding for Steve's motive. “I believe we should put faith in his idea and thus, in you, Tony.” The timer above his palm lit up. Bright red numbers spelled out the time left for them.

_00:07:43_

“Like listening to him that worked out so well last time. If this ends up like the other time, I will kill you, Stark,” Namor muttered.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Tony said lightly, but his voice was tight. “You'll just get there before anyone does.”

“Stark, stop stalling,” T'Challa warned, and Tony swept his hand back through his hair. He hadn't even managed to put all the pieces of armor back on.

It was the same image, the Illuminati holding up their gems on cue, but when the Infinity Gauntlet assembled this time, Tony stepped forward and brought it over his hand. Steve squinted at the light and the drumming in his heart he had learned to associate with the presence of the gauntlet. Tony made a fist, first, before opening the gauntlet and aimed it at the other Earth like one of his own repulsors.

At the end of the world, Tony was the one who would save them, and what did that mean when he had killed himself to do so? Steve's throat was dry and his ears rang as the gems shone brighter. The Earth above them stopped, still in size and in distance.

“You have to push it back!” he heard Stephen shout. Something curled inside the pit of his stomach. The helmet was gone, so Steve saw Tony's face twitch with exertion as he planted his feet into the ground, and the ringing in Steve's ears grew to a fever pitch.

Tony's mouth opened just enough for him to bite down on his lip, and it was all wrong again, the same feeling from the last incursion Steve could remember and the same feeling when Tony had died in front of him all at once, crashing over him in waves.

A grunt escaped Tony and Steve could feel the air around them begin to vibrate with energy. Tony gasped, a desperate little sound, and that was it. Steve surged forward and felt Reed beside him stiffen, then try to pull him back on instinct. Steve shoved off the hand on his shoulder and reached out for Tony.

“ _Tony!”_

Tony jerked when Steve's hand laid over the gauntlet, his eyes desperately searching Steve's. It clicked into place for Steve then, clean and dizzingly clear in its simplicity.

Steve would have gone alone, completed the near impossible task of collecting the Infinity Gems if he could have. There would have been no hesitation from him performing those herculean feats by himself. But he hadn't gone alone, and that was what saved him, because it couldn't have gone any way but failure on his own. The Infinity Gems had been gathered when the only sure thing Steve had was Tony standing at his side. It only stood to reason that he would be here by Tony's, now.

Something clawed at him inside him that felt akin to anger and betrayal, but the warmth he'd come to associate with the meeting of the Infinity Gems washed over him now, his hand on Tony's.

The reverberations echoed around them, but the deafening ringing eased to a dull roar. The Infinity Gauntlet shuddered once, before it pulled apart, the fabric stretching and tearing apart at the edges, taking the Time, Reality, and Power gems with it. It wrapped around Steve's hand at the same time the one still on Tony's hand repaired itself.

Two Infinity Gauntlets, and their gems shone in the same place but not with the same colors. The tension in the air thinned, and Steve shouted it before it even registered.

“On my count!”

Tony closed and opened his fist, and Steve pushed his hand forward, his palm pressed to the back of Tony's hand and their forearms laid over each other.

“Three! Two! One! _Go!_ ”

It wasn't like the first time. There wasn't so much power that Steve's head grew dizzy with incomprehension. There wasn't a feeling of smallness, of inconsequentiality next to an entire universe. The gems filled Steve to the brim, time and power and the fabric of reality lighting sparks in him and the loudness of their power made him feel more alive than he'd ever felt before.

The other Earth eased back. There was no panicked shot this go around. It was steady and sure, and Steve could feel Tony's impatience flaring at the edge of his thoughts. There were moments when Steve felt the same drive, but they couldn't risk it this time. _No_ , he yelled with all his heart, _this is the only way,_ and Tony stilled with the slightest of hesitation.

Steve had told Tony he trusted him, and maybe he couldn't have believed his own words then, but there was nothing he could argue against the Soul Gem telling him thus now. Here, he had no one to trust but Tony. If Tony could trust him back, then...

“Now!”

One final push, and Steve's hold on the gems that flooded his mind shut off. Steve snatched his hand back and stared at it blankly. The Time, Reality, and Power Gems blinked back at him. Their connection to him hadn't snapped, severed like a slice of a blade through cloth like last time. Their presence still lapped at the corner of his consciousness, just barely there, the gems shining dimly in response to his thoughts.

He looked over to check on the other gems, but Tony wasn't looking at his hand and his half of the Infinity Gauntlet. He stared up at the sky, and Steve craned his neck to watch with him.

The once red sky was a gloomy gray, and maybe Steve could have found something wrong in that, but anything was beautiful compared to the pale red that had nearly ended the Earth. The air was dry, but when Steve inhaled as the realization struck him, it was the most refreshing breath he had ever taken.

The other Earth, the red reality, was gone.

* * *

Steve cursed his luck.

No, that wasn't fair to say. The incursion had been stopped without the Infinity Gems shattering. Everyone who had been part of this ordeal had come out on the other side intact (which wasn't the same as saying they hadn't lost anyone). Billions, or trillions of lives, depending on how you viewed it, had been spared. It wasn't fair to call his luck bad, but a lot of things weren't fair. Usually those didn't matter when it came to Steve and his own life, but they did now, with Tony Stark clearing his throat behind him.

They were in the courtyard at the Necropolis, in a secluded corner, surrounded on all sides by thick greenery. It was a better place than the stifling air of the city of the dead, and a safer place to be alone with his thoughts. But Steve's throat had felt tight and his body strung-out for too long to be able to focus on anything other than the telling silence in the air.

“How'd you find me?” His voice came out hoarse. He wondered if he should stand from his bench, but his limbs didn't want to move, and for once, he listened to them.

“Well, I just asked if anyone had seen a red, white, and blue hunk of testosterone pass on through.” Tony's joke did nothing to disseminate the tension in the atmosphere, and he realized it quickly enough, with the way his voice trailed off at the end. If anything, when Steve raised his eyes to Tony, Tony's eyes skittered away. The helmet to the armor was curled under his arm, and he shifted, his closed-off posture spelling out _awkwardness_ and _hesitation_ in a decidedly un-Tony Stark fashion.

“I looked for you. You didn't even stay for the debriefing.” _Don't say it like that,_ Steve wanted to snap, _this isn't a team and this wasn't a mission._

Tony continued. “What else is there to do? If I leave you alone you'll never get out of brooding.”

“And what do you think you can really do for me?” Steve's fists clenched at his sides. “I'm not interested in your li – ” Steve stopped himself, but not quickly enough judging by Tony's flinch.

Tony had lied to him. Tony had betrayed him. But he knew what Tony had meant by those, now, from those remnants of a war, a war that seemed pitiful in the light of all that had happened. Did he, really? What did Steve really know? He knew that he didn't want to look at Tony, didn't want to imagine him fallen, not because of alcohol or hateful business rivals or the countless other people who wanted him dead, but because of Steve Rogers. That Tony on the Helicarrier and that Tony who had killed himself without a second thought next to Death – those couldn't have been lies. Steve wish he knew which of the truths of Tony Stark mattered.

“Get you to shout or do – something.” Tony shifted. “I mean, I know you don't want me here. But you never like it when anyone interrupts your sulks. Usually they don't really deserve a good punch in the face, though but now...it might help out, this time.”

“You call this a sulk?” The sullenness in his voice was palpable, Steve knew. “Make yourself useful, then.” He had to resist a wince at his own acridity. “I want an explanation,” and oh, where to even begin with that question?

Tony was back to his nervous gesture of running his hand back through his hair. “I have to go through this again, then. Well, if there's anything to make me feel inept...this barely makes sense to me, to be honest. That's something there. Everything just...happened all at once, and it's only after the fact that I can put all the pieces together.” His voice was thick with scorn. “Some futurist, huh?”

This is where Steve would jump in normally, to reassure Tony before Tony began to ramble. Would they ever be able to return to that normal? Tony continued, bringing Steve's focus back to his words.

“The Time Gem died with me first, along with Space. Turns out, it didn't like being dead so much. Universal translators don't work so well on the forces of the universe, but the gems...they're there. Sentient. Anyway, it sought out an anchor and hopped itself back to life. That was you.” If Steve could never hear the word _life_ used in conjunction with him again, he would never miss it.

“But, the Time Gem dying – you saw it, that the death of an Infinity Gem means it dies in all timelines. And...” Tony waved his hands around in a familiar unspoken gesture of _this is where my threads unravel and I try to jam them back together while sounding like I know exactly what I'm talking about,_ “when the Time Gem died the first go around at the first incursion, it was...before it should have died. Not that time paradoxes make a difference to that thing. So, the other ones followed it, because it's inconceivable that they exist in different states of beings. And that's how the Infinity Gauntlet broke when you used it. So that wasn't your fault.” Tony paused. “The Gauntlet breaking...that was me.”

Steve wanted to let everything Tony go, but he couldn't let that one away. “Because you really could have foreseen your suici – what you did causing something that happened, for you, months prior.”

“It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility.”

Steve might have really punched him for that.

“But Death is lesser than the power of Infinity Gauntlet,” Tony hastened to change the topic, “and the gems were gathered together in death and...well, came back together in a literal sense. And guess who else was there when the gauntlet formed?” He grinned. “The one and only.”

Steve's head throbbed. He wished he could say it hurt more than his heart did. But the pain in his chest made him realize that there was more than one explanation he wanted from Tony. But that went into matters that were most of the reason he had holed himself away the moment the incursions were over, and ones he didn't know could be resolved, any more. An entire universe saved for the price of a broken relationship. There shouldn't have even been any regrets.

“The Infinity Gauntlet will be fine, then? From now on?”

Tony hesitated, which was an answer all in itself. “Can't guarantee that, Cap. We managed it together. Barely. It might be...we both thought of it as a weapon.” Tony shrugged. “Lucky lucky for me, I'm the weapons expert. But you aren't. And it wasn't even your fault in the first place, what am I saying, and we were the ones who told you to push it back and plant that idea in your head. But you're Captain America. What drives you is to the need to protect. Maybe we should have told you to have thought of it as a shield, and not just any shield. And...chalk it up to being omniscient and all-knowing for a bit, but you're not supposed to bottle up your emotions or hide anything when using the gauntlet. It'll explode, the gems will shatter, and the universe will end.”

Tony looked more uncomfortable than Steve could ever remember him being. “You're supposed to embrace the gems and place full confidence in your humanity. So you can't think of it as protecting something vague and abstract like morality and freedom or ideals. Just imagine it, like, well – I thought of the Avengers, when I thought I had something I needed to leave behind for this world. I've made enough of an unnecessary impact on the world, but not them. Never them.”

Something in Steve clenched at those words seeped with regret. It must have shown on his face, because Tony's face twisted. “Not so great with the motivational speeches. You must be cringing right about now.”

“No, it's – if you want back on the team – ” Steve started, and shut his mouth. Tony had lied to them, used them, and here he was, offering him back a place on a team. He shouldn't have let Tony run his mouth off. It was how Tony always managed to remind Steve of that corner of his heart that said _warmth_ and _comfort_ and _home_.

“When you told me about why you wanted me to wield the Gauntlet,” Tony said quietly, shaking his head, “my first thought wasn't – he makes sense. I thought that, maybe if I succeed, I could start earning your forgiveness back. Billions of lives, and that was what went through my head. If that doesn't prove things about me that say I'm undeserving of being an Avenger, I don't know what does.”

“Stop that,” Steve said sharply. “Just because you have a selfish thought once doesn't mean you're not a hero. It makes you human.”

“Yeah, it's my greatest vice.” This was what Steve had been trying to avoid. Steve could keep his mouth shut, ask perfunctory questions, but the moment he stopped doing that with Tony, it would turn into another argument.

Steve kneaded his forehead with his fingers. “Do you really not want to?” he gritted out. “Come back? The Avengers are nothing to you?”

“It's not a matter of what I _want_ , it's a matter of what I _need_.”

And what did Tony need? Being hated by everyone? Being hated by Steve? Ostracized, reviled, silently suffering like some tragic martyr? It was that thought that finally made Steve go red.

“Don't lie to me! It's a matter of what you _want_. You _want_ me to punish you, kick you off the team and hate you so that it can validate whatever the hell's going on in your head about deserving to die!” Steve slammed his fist into the bench he was sitting on, and a crack sounded through the silence. “What about what _I_ want? What if I want you back on the team because we _proved_ today that we could stop an incursion if we just were together on the same side?”

Steve could have choked on the silence that hung over them.

“You're right.” Tony held his chin up, the very picture of defiance. “I just wanted to use you again for my own ends.”

Steve was up, and in a few strides, had gripped Tony by the shoulders. The armor made his fingers slip, unable to get a good hold. He was secretly glad for it, for he could handle Tony as roughly as the anger coursing through him demanded.

“If those ends are you being left alone, then screw them!” He shook Tony harshly. “Forcing everyone away to achieve something like that? What the hell is the point?”

Tony's eyes blazed. “The Avengers are a _team,_ full of trust and camaraderie and a common goal. But what about me? I wouldn't pick you. I wouldn't pick the Avengers. I wouldn't choose _anything_ over what I need to do! How can you insist on bringing someone like that back?”

“Well, me too!” Steve shouted. “I wouldn't choose you either! I wouldn't pick the Avengers either! I led a damn underground resistance against my government because it's what I needed to do!” He pitched his voice lower, his and Tony's eyes boring holes in each other. “We're both stubborn sons of bitches and that's why we need to be on the _same side._ When we are, we're damn unstoppable, and when we aren't then I can't even think straight! I can't even do anything well enough to make any difference in the world.”

Tony wouldn't meet his eyes, and Steve was so tired of it. “I used you,” Tony muttered. “I used you, because I knew that without you and the Avengers it never would have worked. Don't you want – ”

“Stop trying to make me hate you!” Steve said, apparently not defeated enough to not yell at Tony. “You want it to work, and sometimes it even does, but I don't _want_ it to!”

“Why wouldn't you want to hate someone capable of genocide, Cap?”

“Don't make it sound as simple as that! It's not, and that's why we're even doing – ” Steve shook Tony. “this! And why? Why? Because I'd rather do anything than lose you again, dammit!”

The silence hung over them was thicker than blood. Tony's mouth was slightly agape, eyes a bit wild, as if he had finally found something he couldn't comprehend. A flush was growing over Steve's cheeks, the humiliation burning, and he gritted his teeth.

“I don't want us to fight anymore,” Steve said quietly. He hated not being on the same side as Tony. He hated this, more than he had hated the Infinity Gems or incursions.

“Do I have some things to tell you about our friendship, Cap,” Tony said, lightly this time, placating.

“That's not all we do. We built a world together,” Steve admitted.

“We talked about that part, Steve,” Tony said. “ _You_ built the Avengers World. Without you – ”

“Without you, Tony Stark, there would have been no Avengers World, either.” Steve shook his head as Tony opened his mouth for another retort. “We're not helpless. We can do, _have_ done incredible things. Things we can be proud of. If we can do that, then if we want to enough, then we can make this work, too.”

Tony raised an eloquent eyebrow, but the joke didn't reach his eyes. They were dead serious. “Thought doing this together was the last thing you wanted, Cap.”

Steve shook his head, and how could he explain it?

“I...the thought of destroying a world is unacceptable to me,” he started, hesitant. “It still is. But this isn't – this isn't just about us.” Something on this scale couldn't just be about Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. “When Adam showed us those realities. What I saw – if what I did then would have taken us on that path to that end. Helpless to watch as the Earth and the entire universe collapsed in front of us.” His hands were shaking, and he gripped the armor tighter. “That was also unacceptable.”

Tony let out a slow breath. “That's what you saw, huh. I should have realized...I don't know if I could do it,” he said abruptly. “What you saw, mine was...I didn't want to press that button. I wouldn't press it. But it happened anyway, like I was compelled, and there's – I thought I could do it, if it came down to it.” He shrugged with a distant, painful smile on his face. “I was wrong. I'm sorry for thinking I could, I'm sorry for convincing you I could and doing what I did because of that. I know it's not enough, but I'm sorry about...everything.”

“Me too. I'm sorry too. I can understand why you went so far. That doesn't mean I condone what you've done because of it, but...the truth of the matter is, we never should have let it come this far. We were both wrong.” Steve leaned forward until their foreheads touched, and he slid a hand from Tony's shoulder to the side of his head. Tony leaned his head into it, and they stayed like that, unmoving, until Steve brought his arms around and pulled Tony into a hug. Steve turned his head and buried his nose in the longer hair behind Tony's ear, and they stayed like that for several long moments.

Until Tony stiffened, and Steve froze in place in response. He pulled back just far enough to peer at Tony's face, which was much closer than they had been in a long, long time.

 _Oh, hell_ , Steve thought as he saw the blank confusion in Tony's expression, and leaned in. Tony's lips were softer than he'd imagined – not like he'd imagined this before or – this was different, having to tilt his head back, up into the kiss thanks to the height Tony's armor gave him – Steve kissed him more deeply, insistent. Tony's lips were also a lot less responsive than Steve had imagined – as in not responsive at all.

Steve pulled back hurriedly. Tony stared at him.

“What?” Tony said, and that was not what Steve had been expecting from him. But what had he been expecting from him? Disgust? Eager reciprocation? They had never even talked about – Steve had assumed, made judgments without solid evidence ( _but that had been Tony, broken over his corpse, and_ –), assumed he meant to Tony what Tony meant to him. It was a bad tactical error, and right, maybe Tony was in the right to be confused.

“Sorry,” Steve blurted.

“No! Don't be!” Tony sputtered. “I should be the one who's sorry. I should have known to not be so...intimate in that way with someone who's still grieving over their lost love.”

Lost lov –? Sharon. Sharon, and he hadn't even really thought of her or Ian or anyone else in his life since the damn Time Gem showed up. Steve stared at him.

“Steve? Are you okay?

“I would have married her,” Steve admitted softly. Tony squirmed a little. “But I didn't say yes to her because before I even knew it, she was gone.” Pain ached in his chest at the memory. “But this has nothing to do with that. I just know I'm not going to make that mistake again.”

Had he just voiced his intention to marry Tony? Steve might have – cared about him, but even he wanted to laugh at that idea, and laugh at himself for thinking it. Had he always been this irrational when it came to Tony?

“Okay.” Tony let out a soft breath through pursed lips. “Okay. It makes sense now, in some charged, primal sort of way.” His teeth gleamed white when he grinned. “I wouldn't have ever thought I'd be your type.”

The heated way Tony phrased it, it was quite clear how he took Steve's words. Of _course_ sex was the easiest way for Tony to understand.

Steve glared at him, but it didn't dim Tony's lascivious smile. “It's not me wanting to sleep with you. Or it's – ” his face must be bright pink by now – “this isn't _just_ me wanting to sleep with you.”

“Yeah?” Tony's eyes were lowered. “Yeah.” When he looked back up, his eyes were bright. “Then show me.”

Steve sighed. He reached out and put his hand on Tony's neck first – he had done this before, to comfort him, but the touch now was intimate in a way that unnerved him. Captain America, defeated by the challenge of showing affection to the person he...loved, now that this gesture wasn't thoughtless, now that it had nearly a decade of weight behind it. Cursing his indecision, Steve moved his hand to Tony's cheek, cupping it. Tony's eyes widened comically, and that gave Steve the courage to – to lean in and –

He hoped to say through his actions what words would never have sufficed for, if Steve could have ever brought himself to say those words in the first place. He didn't know if Tony got that message, but Tony did gasp and part his lips slightly before his hand was in Steve's hair and he was kissing back fervently. That probably wasn't a good idea, with the repulsors in his gauntlet, but Steve knew that Tony would never – a soft moan reverberated through Tony's throat and Steve could _feel_ it, like they were locked together, soft and heated and ardent and –

When they parted, Tony let out a deep breath. “So that happened.” He wasn't even looking at Steve's face. “I should probably trust in omnipotence more – ” He laughed when he brought his eyes up and saw the expression that must have been on Steve's face. “When I held my half of the Infinity Gauntlet, it had the Soul Gem and I could...sense your – your soul is very loud. Stands out a lot. And it also told me about how you felt. And how I felt about what you felt in return.”

Tony squirmed as Steve stared at him blankly. “What?” Tony shrugged a bit forcefully. “I don't care what anyone says, maybe I think I know more about my own relationships and feelings than some leftover fossil.”

“You needed the – really?” So Steve was a little indignant, but he had good reason to be. “Even I didn't need the Infinity Gauntlet to tell me I lo – how I feel about you. I thought you were supposed to be better than me at stuff like this.”

“Steve,” Tony laughed again, and after so long without sensing any real happiness from him, Steve didn't think he could bear not seeing it again. “Have I ever had a lasting relationship? And don't look like me like that, you were the one who just needed for me to kick the bucket before you could even rea– ” Tony's words were sharply cut off when Steve pressed their lips together again. Steve curled his hand around the back of Tony's head to push them even closer and was rewarded with a breathless moan for his efforts. What was even more satisfying was the thud as the Iron Man helmet dropped to the ground.

They finally parted again over several aborted attempts, one of them never failing to chase each other back into the kiss each time someone tried to pull back. Steve felt a bit dizzy and incredibly warm. Tony was grinning wildly.

“Damn, I feel alive. The universe was spot-on with their assessment of you, Steve Rogers.”

Steve felt even more alive with that statement if the heat in his cheeks was anything to go by. As it turned out, being called _life_ by Tony was the one time it wouldn't raise his hackles.

“Nothing for me?” Tony tilted his head. “I didn't make your heart stop?”

“You are never going to get to bring up dying again,” Steve muttered as he stroked the hair behind the rim of Tony's earlobe.

“I love how you leave bringing it up completely open for yourself. Probably for the next time you shout at me for being reckless,” Tony laughed. At least there would be a next time, Steve wanted to retort, and he wanted all the next times that they could possibly have. But –

“Next time? Does that mean...?”

“What can I say?” Tony looked down with a gentle smile. His eyelashes were very dark and long from this close. “You're the one asking.”

Steve nodded. “We're still – ” These past few moments had been like a fantasy. When they left this secluded corner, they would have to face reality. Not just about the incursions, but about themselves. Steve suddenly didn't want to let go of Tony. “This isn't over. We have a lot we need to talk about.” _We have a lot we need to change._

“I'm the one to confess I haven't been saying nearly enough,” Tony admitted quietly.

The Iron Man helmet started beeping, making both of them jump.

“Shit,” Tony said, glaring at it where it lay at their feet, the atmosphere effectively shot. “Now? Seriously?”

“Duty calls,” Steve said dryly. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Not when you're making out with Captain America, it doesn't,” Tony muttered as he picked up the helmet and jammed it on. Steve felt his face grow hot as it really hit him. “Making out” with Tony Stark...of course it made him feel amazing, but it was new. The feelings that had been deep-seated in him for so long were just starting to become recognized, and for them to be consummated in a physical form, that was...different. Steve wanted to fidget.

“It's not an incursion,” Tony said, his voice distorted and the tension in Steve's shoulders loosened. “Reed said he's figured something out.”

That's good. It's the most hope they've had about the incursions ever since they had successfully used the Gauntlet, and _that_ had been just a few hours prior.

“We still haven't figured out where the incursions are coming from,” Tony said quietly, pulling the helmet off, “or why they're coming more frequently now. This isn't over, not even close to it.”

“We _will_ , though,” Steve told him with complete assurance. “We'll figure out the cause of this, and we'll solve it. I believe in y- I believe in us.” He took Tony's hand in his own at the words.

“There's one person I can't let down,” Tony joked, but he squeezed Steve's fingers back and smiled. It made Steve realize they hadn't even really figured out what _this_ was, this new and budding spark between them, grown from a place of anger and love and hurt and home. “Along with the rest of the universe,” Tony added. “Let's go find out what Reed's found.”

It was okay. This was worth it. Because when they were together, even the prospect of taking on every universe imaginable wasn't so dire.

**Author's Note:**

> Temporary character death (he gets better!): Tony


End file.
